


The Prank That Filled the Spank Bank

by Bookkbaby



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, brief Dean/Anna, mentions of RPS and M/F/F threesome (in context of porn), mild Bobby/Ellen, mild Sam/Jess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2012-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 16:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 41,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookkbaby/pseuds/Bookkbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts with a prank war and a chance meeting at the auto shop Dean works at.  (Based off of Almaasi's prompt: Castiel records audio pornography. Not professionally, or anything - he writes it and then reads it out, and uploads it free to the world. It’s not Dean’s usual type of porn - at all - but there’s something about Castiel’s gravelly, yet somehow smooth and beautiful voice that keeps him hooked.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had started with Dean's boredom, some saran wrap, and a quick trip into the bathroom to cover the toilet bowl. Sam had been very displeased.

Three days later, Dean endured a full eight hours of itchy hell at work and vowed to never leave his boxer drawer unguarded again after beginning a prank war. He added a packet of purple Kool-Aid to Sam's conditioner; Sam responded with glue in Dean's hair gel. Glittery glue.  
Then there was the salt replacing the sugar in Sam's morning coffee, the lemon drops in the showerhead leaving a candy coating on Dean's skin, the replacement of Sam's lab book with the latest edition of Busty Asian Beauties, the message left by the ‘doctor’ confirming the results of Dean's test just after Dean walked in the apartment with his latest would-have-been-one-night-stand, and the hanging of Sasquatch-sized briefs (appropriately labeled) on the campus flagpole. Sam had retaliated rather weakly and tore off all the labels on Dean's music tapes.

Dean had declared himself the winner of the war, since Sam's latest prank was annoying but hardly as embarrassing as it should have been at this stage. Sammy had just smiled and nodded, conceding the victory gracefully.

Looking back, that really should have tipped Dean off. Sam's prank had been a masterstroke, an epic sleeper cell that Dean would have admired if it had been performed on anyone else. It would have been an even better prank if Dean had been one hundred percent heterosexual, but since Sammy didn't know about that, it couldn't really be considered an oversight on the part of the younger Winchester.

Dean was in the McDonald's parking lot, having just pulled through the drive-through, when he put the last still-unmarked tape into the tape player. He had listened to the rest in turn, carefully re-labeling each once he was done and putting them back in their box. The only one he was missing was Metallica, but instead of the smooth beats of 'Enter Sandman' greeting him when he pushed the tape in and pressed 'play', he got-

_"-oh please, don't stop..." Misha said hoarsely, hips rocking into the motions of Jensen's mouth."_

Dean spat his drink out all over the dash of his car.

"Shit," he said, shoving his cup into the drink holder next to him and grabbing a napkin to mop up the worst of the mess. With protecting his car almost as ingrained in his blood as 'protect Sammy', it took him a minute to realize that he really should not be blasting porn outside of a family restaurant in the middle of the day. He dropped the napkin and fumbled with the volume switch, turning it down to a reasonable decibel level.

_"Jensen drew back, running his tongue along the vein on the underside of Misha's cock-"_

Dean stared at the player for a moment, lips parted slightly in shock. His ears were damn good, but he must be hearing things wrong, because he could have sworn-

_"You like that?" Jensen asked as Misha's hips bucked. Misha nodded, his chest heaving with every breath, and he spread his legs to allow Jensen in between them._

_"Please... I want you inside me. I need it, Jen. Don't tease me."_

Dean swallowed heavily, feeling heat curling low in his body. This wasn't just porn, this was _gay_ porn. It was like an audiobook with added sound effects, quiet moans and mewls inserted into the reading wherever the narrator felt they fit. Dean felt his dick perk up at the pleased sounds.

"Well-played, Sammy," he choked out. He had no idea where his little brother could have gotten something like this, because as far as he knew, no one produced gay pornographic books on tape. It definitely wasn't Sam reading it out, either. The person reading had the kind of voice phone sex operators would sell their souls for, like sex distilled. It was definitely a man's voice, deep and gravelly, and Dean couldn't remember the last time he had gotten this hard without being touched.

He sucked in a breath and hit the 'stop' button on the radio player, quickly ejecting the tape and replacing it with something safe. He'd need to be properly furious with Sam for this when he got home and that would be difficult if he had to spend ten minutes in the bathroom taking care of business first. Sam would never take him seriously. Dean slipped the unmarked tape into his coat pocket, put the car in drive, and drove off.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean threw the door to Sam's room open and stood in the doorway, fuming. Sam glanced up from his desk, took one look at his brother's face, and burst out laughing.

"Where's my Metallica tape?" Dean demanded. The thought that Sam may have destroyed the Metallica tape to open up a space for the other tape had pissed him off the second it occurred to him. The blue balls caused by said 'other tape' only added to his irritation. Sam doubled over, holding his stomach.

"It's not funny, Samantha," Dean snapped. Sam straightened up, but didn't stop chuckling.

"What I would give to have been there to see your face..." he said out loud, shaking his head and smiling. "I've still got your tape, calm down."

"Where. Is. It?" Dean asked. Sam sighed and rolled his eyes, mirth now entirely subsided. He leaned over and opened up one of the drawers in his desk. He reached in and grabbed something, then tossed it at Dean. Dean caught it and flipped it over, looking at the label. His own handwriting stared back at him.

"See? Perfectly unharmed," Sam said. A grin stole back over his face. "Did you enjoy the replacement tape?"

"Dude, where'd you even FIND something like that?" Dean said, trying to sound more incredulous than curious. He must have succeeded, since Sam didn't do anything more than shrug.

"On the Internet."

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Do I want to know what you were searching for, or do you want me to believe you just stumbled across it while researching kinky medical practices?"

Sam sighed.

"That was a paper on female hysteria for my Victorian class, Dean. I told you that already." Dean lifted his head, smirking.

"Right, sure."

"Some girls in my class were talking about it," Sam said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes again. "It wasn't hard to look up the guy's name and find his website." Sam looked up at Dean, a curious light in his eyes. "Why are you so interested?"

"I'm not," Dean denied instantly, turning to leave. His response had been too quick and he silently cursed himself when he heard Sam speak.

"What'd you do with the tape, Dean?" Sam's voice was _knowing_ , far too knowing for Dean's comfort. He spun on his heel and drew himself up to his full height, wishing he was a few inches taller than his brother instead of shorter. Damn Sasquatch.

"Why, you want it back?" he asked, voice perhaps a little more aggressive than usual. Sam looked confused.

"No, but-" he started to say, but Dean cut him off.

"Good, 'cause I tossed it in the first Dumpster I found," he lied. He turned away from Sam again and walked out, slamming the door shut behind him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean locked his bedroom door behind him, Sammy's laptop clutched under one arm. Sam had gone out on a date with Jessica, so Dean had a few hours before his younger brother would return and realize that his computer was missing. It would hopefully be long enough.

He set the laptop down on the bed and flipped it open. Sam did have a password on the computer, but Dean had figured it out weeks ago and the younger Winchester had yet to catch on. Sometimes, knowing how to clear the browser history was awesome.

Dean quickly logged himself on to the Internet using Sam's username and password and went immediately to Google. He thought briefly of going to Busty Asian Beauties instead, but the memory of the voice on the tape convinced him otherwise. He’d had an embarrassingly brief session with his tape player and his right hand in the bathroom earlier, just after Sam had left. Besides giving him relief from blue balls, the credits at the beginning of the tape had given him a name to put to the voice. Jimmy Novak.

Dean would bet that it wasn't the guy's real name, but it would hopefully be enough to track him down. He typed it into the search engine and waited impatiently as the results loaded. He scrolled down the second they did. There was an entry on Wikipedia for some character from a show with the same name and a racing and motorsports page, but he didn't find anything that seemed promising until he went to the second page of results.

"Livejournal, huh..." he muttered to himself, clicking on the link. He'd heard about the site before, mostly from this one chick who had insisted that the people who friended her on the site were her true people, since they read and understood what she wrote. Dean had only put up with it because she'd had legs a mile long. If Jimmy had a Livejournal page (assuming this was the correct Jimmy Novak), then maybe he had some of his stuff posted here. He recalled that Sam had an account here and hoped that Sam was already signed on so that he wouldn't need to figure out the password.

Dean grinned when the page finally loaded. It seemed like he had gotten it right first try. Sam was indeed already signed in and the very first entry on the page was titled 'Love Among the Stars'. It matched the title of the story Dean had listened to earlier. There had actually been something of a plot to the porn. Dean had fast-forwarded to the good stuff, but what he had heard had sounded interesting enough that he might go back and listen to the whole thing. The fact that Jimmy's voice was just as sexy reading about how Misha took his coffee as when he read about Jensen fucking Misha into the bed had nothing to do with this decision. At all. Dean wasn't pathetic enough to get hard to 'he put three sugar cubes into the mug and stirred slowly. Some coffee splashed onto his hand, but the stuff in the break room was always lukewarm and instead of flinching he licked it off absently. Jensen's eyes hungrily followed the movement-'

Well... the licking was kind of sexual, so it wasn't that pathetic.

He skipped the entry and continued on. He already had the file, there was no need to download it again. He'd have to delete all evidence of this before Sam got back.

The next entry just seemed to be a post thanking people for friending him. Dean skipped it. The one after that was some kind of PG-rated story, according to the summary, with a download link provided. Dean skipped it. The third, fourth, and fifth entries were also a bust, but the sixth entry had a closed-padlock symbol next to the title and was rated NC-17. It had a download link and Dean grinned. Jackpot.

He clicked the link and let it download while he scanned the summary. It seemed to be about a god named Loki who got his kicks tricking humans until one day he met a demon named Jared. Kinky. He briefly wondered how Jimmy picked what stories to read out and how he found them, but wasn't too curious. The point was that Jimmy did read and post the audio files for download.

Dean got up out of bed and walked over to his closet. He stepped over the piles of dirty laundry expertly and grabbed a shoebox from the shelf he'd installed after moving in. The box was old, but it served its purpose. It held a converter that Dean could use to create new tapes from music files on the computer. Sammy had gotten it for him years ago and Dean had been making his own mixed tapes ever since. He was sure that he still had several blank tapes he hadn't used yet, but he had a feeling he'd be running out to the store soon to buy more.

He carried the box back over to the bed and set it down before lifting the lid and tossing it aside. Three unlabeled tapes rested next to the converter. Enough for now, but hopefully not 'enough, fullstop'. Dean privately hoped that there were more than enough stories to fill up all three tapes and then some. If he had his way, he'd need to get a separate shoebox just for his pornographic tape collection.

He took a moment to wrap his head around that thought and then chuckled. A pornographic cassette tape collection. It was probably one of the weirdest things he had ever heard of. If it had been anyone but himself collecting, he would have told the person to man up and recommended some good Casa Erotica titles. Porn was a visual thing. Sure, sound was great and all. Dirty talk was hot and phone sex was awesome, but it wasn't quite enough without images to go with it. At least, Dean had thought so until Sam's latest, beautifully-executed prank. Jimmy Novak could probably talk people to orgasm without laying a finger on them; he'd nearly done it to Dean and Dean didn't even know what he looked like.

Dean went through more pages on Jimmy's livejournal, downloading several more stories before finally quitting for the night and transferring them to tapes before deleting them and emptying the recycle bin. Good thing Sam was such a neat freak he even kept his recycle bin clean, or else Sammy might notice it suddenly being empty and get suspicious.

Dean put the tapes in his bedside drawer for safekeeping and quietly slipped the laptop back into Sam's room, making sure to set it down just as Sam had left it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

3 Weeks Later

Dean wiped his oil-covered hands off on a rag before shoving said rag back into the pocket of his uniform. He'd just finished changing the oil in a client's car and was finally due for his lunch break. Breakfast had been a piece of toast that morning and his stomach was protesting the neglect. He was walking passed the front desk, on his way to the break room and his lunch, when he heard a very familiar voice.

"I don't understand what's wrong with it."

Dean stopped, sucking in a sharp breath. His dick twitched in his pants, conditioned by three weeks of listening to tapes with that voice on them to associate the sound with immediate good times. The hunger must really be getting to him, since there was no way he had really just heard Jimmy Novak's voice.

He really needed to stop listening to the tapes. He had thought it was bad when he could recite his favorite scenes word for word, but this was just ridiculous.

"Mr. Collins, I'm sorry, but none of our mechanics are free right now," Jo was saying when Dean shook himself and tuned back in. Jo was the owner's stepdaughter and worked as the secretary for Bobby's garage during the day. Dean had thought that she had a thing for him, way back when he first started working here. He might have returned the sentiment at one point, but Bobby had been like a father to Dean when he was younger and so, by extension, Bobby's stepdaughter had become Dean's sort-of sister. Sleeping with Jo would have been nothing more than a one night stand and a little too incestuous for Dean's tastes. "If you like, I can make you an appointment..." Jo's voice trailed off and Dean heard the pages of the appointment book flip. "We have an appointment open tomorrow in the afternoon, if that would work for you?"

There was silence for half a second and Dean didn't realize that he was moving until he was already standing in the doorway that separated the garage from the front desk. It couldn't really be Jimmy Novak, but he still had to see. Anyone with a voice that hot was worth a look at least.  
Jo was behind the desk, as usual, and 'beige' was the first impression Dean got of the man standing across from her. The man Jo had called 'Mr. Collins' was nodding his head reluctantly, though he stopped and looked up when Dean took another step forward. 

Dean didn't believe in chick flick moments, so time didn't stop and the world didn't dissolve, but his impression of 'beige' was immediately replaced by 'blue' the second his eyes met the other man's. Mr. Collins had the largest, bluest eyes of anybody Dean had ever met and it took him a moment to remember to look anywhere else. His hair was dark and messy and his face was round with a bit of stubble on his chin and cheeks. He was a bit shorter than Dean and for a moment, Dean fantasized about backing him up against the nearest wall, leaning over, and kissing him, just like Robert did to Crowley in 'Two Minutes to Midday'. The man's lips were perfect for it too, light pink and plush, made to be claimed and perhaps lightly nibbled...

Dean banished the thought from his head. He really needed to stop confusing porn with reality.  
Mr. Collins was wearing a slightly rumpled blue suit and a brown overcoat, not tight enough to reveal anything but the barest hints about the body beneath. Mr. Collins was thin, but Dean couldn't tell if he was just skinny or if he had some muscle to him. Dean's eyes strayed back up to the man's face. Mr. Collins seemed to be looking right through him, staring like blinking was a foreign concept. Dean felt a shiver move down his spine and he coughed and turned to Jo.  
Jo smiled at him.

"Hey, Dean. Taking lunch?" she asked him, already turning to look for the sign-out sheet. Dean cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot the other.

"I'll look at it," he offered quickly. Jo looked at him, surprised and a bit confused. Dean nodded towards Mr. Collins. "His car, I'll take a look."

"I don't want to cause any trouble..." Mr. Collins said. Dean carefully breathed in as another wave of recognition washed through him. There was no mistaking that voice and he clearly wasn't hallucinating, unless he was now also hallucinating the stunned look Jo was leveling at him. Dean would have thought this was a dream, since enough of his dreams had started off with him meeting a gorgeous guy with the voice of a sex god in some random place, but usually by now there would be touching, fewer clothes, and no audience.

"It's no trouble, buddy," Dean said, stepping forward and offering the man his hand. "Dean Winchester. You can call me Dean."

"Castiel Collins," Castiel said, a soft smile on his lips as he stepped forward and took the offered hand. He shook it once, firmly, and then dropped it. If perhaps Castiel was a bit too much in Dean's personal space, he hardly noticed. "Please, call me Castiel."

_Castiel._ Now Dean had a name to go with the voice and an image to go with the fantasies. He wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

"Bobby's got you blocked in for the rest of the afternoon, though... and you're just going to skip lunch?" Jo asked doubtfully. Dean winced at the reminder and he felt his stomach rumble, but there was no audible noise accompanying the feeling and nothing to give him away.

"I'm fine. Had a big breakfast," he said with forced cheer. Jo stared at him incredulously.

"You had a piece of toast. That's not a big breakfast by anyone's standards, let alone yours," she said. Dean mentally swore. He had forgotten that he'd complained to Jo about how little he'd had to eat yet. He noticed Castiel looking uncertainly at Jo and then at him.

"Well, I'm not hungry," Dean said. "One of the guys gave me a sandwich and I ate it while checking out Mr. Jefferson's car."

Jo watched him suspiciously, but then shrugged and turned away.

"If you're sure..." she said slowly. "I'll mark down that you didn't eat."

"Thanks," he said. He turned back to Castiel. "Did you drive here or have your car towed?"

"I drove," Castiel replied. "There's a strange noise whenever I drive, but otherwise the car works fine." He hesitated for a moment. "My car will be fine for another day. Are you certa-"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Dean said, smiling charmingly. He jerked his head towards the garage. "Bring her around back and I'll see what I can do."

Castiel nodded gratefully and turned towards the door. As he walked out, Dean found his eyes dropping. He scowled when all he could see was shapeless trenchcoat and then Cas was out the door and out of sight.

He turned to head back into the garage only to be stopped by Jo's dumbstruck expression. He raised an eyebrow.

"You got something to say?" he asked her, lifting his chin up a bit.

"Were you checking out his ass?" she asked. Dean snorted.

"Me, check out another guy's ass?" he said. "You been drinking Bobby's rotgut?"

Jo grinned.

"So, you were trying to check out his ass." She grinned and shook her head fondly. "I guess you do learn something new every day."

Dean looked at the floor and ran a hand over the back of his neck. He wasn't exactly ashamed of his rather fluid sexuality, but it wasn't something he advertised either.

"Look, Jo..." he started to say, but he let his voice trail off. Jo smiled kindly at him.

"I'll see if I can switch one of your clients to someone else so you can take lunch once you're done with Mr. Collins's car. Good luck," she told him, winking.

"Thanks, Jo, you're the best," Dean said. He grinned and headed back to the garage. A silver convertible was just pulling in to Dean's work area as he walked through the door, a whirring, grinding noise following it. Probably wheel bearings, from the sound. They weren't that easy to fix, but routine enough, so Dean took a moment to admire the car. It was pretty nice and fairly new, though not something Dean would have expected Cas to own. It seemed too flashy for him.

The convertible parked and Dean walked up just as Cas opened the door. Dean's eyes met Castiel's for a moment and he got the sense yet again that Cas was looking through him and seeing everything. It was like being flayed alive, but in a good way. Dean tore his gaze away and looked at the car instead.

"Sounds like you've got trouble with a loose wheel bearing," he said. "It'll take me about an hour, but I can fix it. Considering the type of car you've got here, it'll probably cost around $250." 

"You could tell all that just from watching me drive in?" Cas asked, moving closer as if he could learn the secrets of fixing cars if he just got close enough to Dean. He sounded somewhere between doubtful and impressed. Dean nodded, tapping one of his ears.

"Worn out wheel bearings make a very distinct noise, so it's pretty easy to figure out if that's what the problem is," he said, doing his best to keep his tone professional and his movements casual as he headed away from Cas and towards the back of the car. The sound had seemed to come from the rear driver's-side tire, so he'd start there. Cas might be trying to learn through osmosis, but the proximity was doing all sorts of weird things to Dean's insides. The sound of Castiel's voice was sending all kinds of messages to his brain, the need to work and be professional warring with the sound of what had been his masturbation fodder for the past three weeks.

Dean put the thoughts aside and got to work. He couldn't do his job when he was hard and thinking too much about Cas and the audio pornography the man had recorded would get Dean there, no problem. He reached into the open toolbox he had left at his station and grabbed his wrench to loosen the lug nuts.

"What are you doing?" Castiel asked, voice unexpectedly close. Dean almost jumped; he hadn't heard the man approaching.

"Jeez, warn a guy before you teleport..." he muttered, turning to face Cas. Castiel was standing, his head tilted in confusion, only a foot away from where Dean crouched next to his toolbox.

It wasn't cute, Dean told himself. Or endearing. He didn't use words like that.

Dean straightened up, wrench in hand, and ran a hand over the back of his neck.

"I have to take a look and see if it is the bearings. It probably is and in that case I'll need to put the car up and replace 'em. We should have the right kind for your car in the back."

Castiel nodded slowly.

"You said this would take you approximately an hour?" he asked. Dean nodded.

"That's right."

Castiel looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded decisively. 

"Is there an eatery within walking distance? I don't know the area well and I didn't think to check when I drove in," he explained. Dean felt an odd mix of relief and disappointment, stomach dropping but his body becoming lighter at the same time. Of course Cas wouldn't want to hang out here while Dean worked on his car. At least Dean would be able to work instead of thinking about ways to get Cas to talk and keep talking, ways to get Cas home and into his bed, the way Cas's voice would sound after he screamed himself hoarse during orgasm-

Dean shifted a bit and looked back into his toolbox. He picked aimlessly through it, trying to make his movements seem purposeful.

"Yeah, the Roadhouse has pretty good food. It's only a block or two away. Jo can give you directions. It's her mom's place," Dean said. He jerked his head towards the door to the office. "Come back in an hour and your car should be all set."

Castiel didn't say anything for a moment. A hand gently touched Dean's shoulder and he froze for several heartbeats, hands still in his toolbox.

"Thank you, Dean," Cas said. He squeezed Dean's shoulder gently and then let go. "I will be back."

Dean nodded but didn't lift his eyes from the toolbox as Castiel turned and walked towards the office. He breathed in deep when he heard the door shut behind the other man and mentally shook himself.

It wasn't that big of a deal that he had heard the voice he jerked off to say his name, even if that sound was now etched permanently into his mind and would probably be appearing in his fantasies from now on. It wasn't that big of a deal that he could still feel where Castiel had touched him, like a handprint burned into his skin.

He groaned and lifted a hand from the toolbox in order to slap himself in the forehead.

Goddamnit.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean had just finished getting the car off of the jack and tightening the lug nuts when Castiel reappeared with a Roadhouse take-out bag in hand. Dean forced himself to smile, wiping his hands clean on the rag he carried in his uniform pocket.

"I see you found the place all right. Your car's done. I was right, it was the bearings," Dean told him. "Already told Jo, so she should've had your bill up front." He knew his grin was strained at best, but he plunged on. "Thanks for using Singer's Body Shop and have a nice day."

He turned, intending to walk around Cas. He knew it wasn't fair to resent the man for not staying for the hour it had taken to fix the convertible, but he didn't feel much like being fair. Castiel had just skipped off, completely unaware of what his voice did to Dean, had been doing to Dean for weeks and what his face and body would be contributing to for the next month, at least, and that was completely unfair.

"I brought this for you."

Dean stopped abruptly and then spun to face Castiel. Cas held out the Roadhouse bag and Dean reached for it numbly. The food inside had heated the bag and the warmth seemed to travel up his arms and collect in his chest. Dean passed it off as another wave of arousal, even though the heat was significantly higher in his body than his groin. The food at the Roadhouse was almost orgasmic, especially the pie.

If Cas had gotten him pie, Dean would just have to ask to marry him. It wouldn't be the first time he had professed love over a piece of pie. Cas wouldn't even be the first guy he had proposed to, though Sammy had been a little freaked out that time and so Dean had decided to curb his heartfelt proposals over baked goods, at least where his brother was concerned.

Dean opened the bag. Nestled inside was what looked like one of Ellen's bacon cheeseburgers, wrapped in wax paper, with fries dumped into the bag next to it and, once he lifted the burger, a slice of apple pie in a plastic box. Heaven in a flaky crust with just a bit of sugar sprinkled over the top.

Dean looked up at the angel who had come bearing it. Cas smiled softly at him, lips barely turning up, but his eyes were earnest.

"The woman at the bar told me that you often order this when you visit the Roadhouse," Castiel said, nodding at the bag. "Miss Harvelle said that you hadn't eaten breakfast, and a sandwich isn't really much... You gave up your lunch break to work on my car and I wanted to express my gratitude. I hope you have time to enjoy it before your next appointment." 

"Yeah, Jo said she had me covered," Dean replied, somewhat stunned. His heart was doing this odd skipping thing and his brain was running a mile a minute but not going anywhere, spinning and making him dizzy and making it hard to think. It was the only reason Dean had to explain away what came out of his mouth then, as he stared at Castiel's big blue eyes.

Well, that and the pie. He could always blame the pie.

"Can I have your number?" he blurted out. Cas blinked at him, surprise overtaking earnestness in his expression. Dean felt his stomach drop.

He was usually so much more careful when he went after a guy. Even if the guy wasn't homophobic, and Castiel probably wasn't, that was no guarantee that he was interested in other men. Cas might read gay porn and post it online, but he could be totally straight. He might even be offended that Dean thought he liked men.

Dean had learned the hard way not to judge people's preferences based on what they did. Dean's last year of high school had been a living hell because he had hit on the drama club's president, a boy who was active in what passed for the school's Gay-Straight Alliance and had several friends who were out of the closet. They had been at a party, they had all been a little drunk, and Dean had nearly gotten his teeth knocked out. He wasn't keen on repeating that experience any time soon, even if there would be no lasting repercussions if Cas rejected him.

That last year of high school was exactly why Dean was usually so careful, but now he had let his mouth run off while his brain ran away.

"My phone number?" Castiel asked. Dean nodded, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

"Yeah," he said. There was a beat of silence and then Dean shook his head. "Look, just forget it-"

"Do you have a pen?" Castiel asked.

"-it's cool - what?" Dean replied. Castiel lifted his head slightly.

"I don't have a pen on me," Cas explained. "The bag will work to write on, but I have nothing to write with."

Dean was dumbstruck for a second but then he recovered. He nodded.

"Yeah, I got one." He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a pen. Cas took it and then carefully tore off a strip from the paper bag that held Dean’s lunch. He held the strip flat against his palm to write on before scribbling out a series of numbers and his name. Cas handed the paper and the pen back to Dean, who studied them for a second, looking over the phone number, before he tucked both back into his breast pocket. 

"How about I call you tomorrow and we make plans to go get a drink sometime?" Dean asked, trying to inject some of his usual confidence into the words. He had already flubbed the asking for the phone number; it didn't matter that he had succeeded. He had simply blurted out 'can I have your number' like some pathetic teenager asking out his first crush. Smooth, Dean-o. Real smooth.

Castiel nodded seriously.

"I'd like that very much, Dean," he said. Dean grinned. Cas returned the expression with a slight upward tilt to the corners of his mouth and then began walking to his car.

"The office is the other way," Dean said, not particularly concerned that Cas was going to try and stiff them on the bill. He just didn't seem the type.

"I've already paid," Cas said, confirming Dean's assumption. Cas opened up the car door and got in. Dean watched him drive off, a shit-eating grin on his face he couldn't and didn't want to get rid of. He turned to walk into the office and talk to Jo, see if she really had managed to clear some time for him to eat. His steps had a bit more swagger than usual, but then again, he had just scored a hot date.

He was practically whistling by the time he opened the door and walked in. Jo looked up from her magazine and smirked when she saw the bag from the Roadhouse.

"He actually brought you lunch," she said, shaking her head fondly. "Did you get his number?"

Dean's smirk widened. He carefully shifted the bag to one arm and pumped the other fist up victoriously.

"Dean Winchester!" he announced, like that explained everything. Jo rolled her eyes and flipped to the next page in her magazine, but she was grinning.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean sat on his bed, the piece of paper with Castiel's number in one hand and his phone in the other. He glanced at the clock, waiting impatiently for it to turn 1:36pm. It wasn't too early in the day to risk waking Cas up or to come across as desperate, but wasn't too late to prevent plans being made for that night. It was also random enough that it didn't seem specifically chosen. Dean had picked the time out ages ago, back when he was still young and dreamed about getting the phone numbers of any hottie he came across instead of just getting them into bed.

Finally, the clocked ticked over. Dean took a deep breath and looked at his phone. He typed Castiel's number in, keeping half an eye on the paper to make sure he was dialing correctly. He hit 'send' and lifted his cell phone up to his ear. It only took two rings before someone answered.

"Hello?" Castiel said. Dean grinned. God, his voice should be illegal.

"Hey, it's Dean," he said. "We met at the auto shop yesterday. I said I'd call?" Dean took a deep breath and shook his head. First he flubbed asking for the number and now he was flubbing the phone conversation. Again, smooth. Sam would be laughing if he was listening.

"I remember," Cas said simply. "You said you wanted to go out for drinks."

"Yeah, are you free tonight?" Dean asked. He kept his tone carefully casual, though he was mentally doing a victory fist-pump. Cas had remembered him, not that he'd expected any less. He was damn fine.

Castiel was quiet for a moment and Dean felt a hint of tension shoot through his mental congratulations.

"I did make plans with one of my brothers, but I don't think he will mind if I cancel," Cas said. Dean's face split into a grin.

"Awesome. I'll pick you up at seven?" he asked. Any chance to show off his baby. Besides, the sound of her engine purring had gotten more than one of his dates a bit more eager to get horizontal.

"I am capable of driving," Cas replied, sounding puzzled. "I can meet you at the bar. Where would you like to go?"

Dean could roll with that. Maybe next time he'd get Cas into the Impala's backseat. The thought of there being a second date didn't bother him, not one bit.

He stilled for a moment on the heels of that realization. He hadn't gone on a _first_ date yet and he was already thinking in terms of a _second_ date? Just because he liked the guy's voice? He wasn't the kind of guy that did second dates, though there were one or two people he had considered calling again. There had been one weekend spent with a yoga instructor he still remembered fondly.

He wondered if Castiel did yoga.

"Dean?"

The sound of the man in question's voice snapped him out of his musings. He pushed aside his rather explicit, acrobatic thoughts and briefly ran through a mental list of appropriate bars. They could go to the Roadhouse, he supposed, but Ellen would insist on talking to Cas and that had the potential to be way more embarrassing than Dean was prepared for. Roadhouse was out. Sidetrack was nice, but was more for pick-ups than dates. More to the point, Dean wasn't sure how comfortable Castiel was with his sexuality. If he was new to this side of the rainbow or still in the closet, a gay bar probably wasn't the best place to take him.

And Dean really didn't want to fend off half the bar the moment they caught sight of Castiel's eyes and heard his voice. Sidetrack was definitely out.

Another Round was a possibility, though. It was a combination bar and restaurant, not too low brow or too classy to take a date to. The food was pretty good and the bar was well-stocked. The owner may have a friendly rivalry going on with Ellen, since they catered to a lot of the same crowd, but Dean could go there if he wanted so long as he didn't frequent the place more than the Roadhouse. He and Cas wouldn't get kicked out of Another Round for making out over the waffle-fry nachoes either.

"Have you ever been to Another Round?" he asked Cas. "It's right on Main, by the corner of Main and Seminary?"

"No, I have not. Is that where we're meeting?" Castiel asked.

"Yeah. I'll see you there at seven?" Dean asked. "Do you need directions?"

" I'll be able to locate the place," Cas replied. "Seven works for me.”

"Excellent. I'll see you later," Dean said.

"Goodbye, Dean."

Dean heard a small 'click' and then the phone disconnected. He smiled and shut his phone off before getting up and out of bed. He headed out the door and towards the kitchen to fix himself something to eat. There was a low, steady hum of arousal in his body but he ignored it, carefully trying not to think of anything that would give him a problem he'd need to take in hand. If all went well on his date, he'd hate to underperform at a crucial time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean pulled up and parked the Impala in the lot at the back of the restaurant. He was freshly showered and had on a dark green shirt. One of his recent conquests had said that it brought out his eyes.

He checked his reflection in the rearview mirror, just to make sure that he didn't have anything in his teeth and that nothing was hanging out of his nose. He was clean. He winked at his reflection. He'd tap that, and hopefully Cas would too.

He got out of the car and locked it behind him as he walked towards Another Round, a hint of swagger in his step. Sam had noticed Dean's preparations and had assumed that the older Winchester was going out on the prowl. Dean hadn't bothered correcting him, just said that if Sam heard any noises coming from Dean's room, he wasn't to investigate. Sam had rolled his eyes and muttered something about heading over to Jessica's to spend the night there instead.

Dean walked in to Another Round and took a quick glance around the room. He had been pretty certain that the main dinner rush would be over by seven, except on game days, and he had been right. There were still a fair amount of people scattered around the large room, grouped in circles around the tables. None of them were Cas, so Dean got to pick where they sat. There were plenty of free tables yet and Dean could see some free booths towards the back. There were spots open at the bar too, but Dean was hungry and the bar wasn't exactly an intimate setting. If he wanted to talk to Castiel, it'd be difficult to do it at the bar without anyone overhearing.

Damnit, he was turning into a chick. 'Talking' was for girls, wusses, and Sammy.

Still, he didn't want to announce to the bar in general that he listened to gay audiobook style porn. If he and Cas were going to have a thing, he should probably admit that he listened to what the man recorded and posted on his livejournal.

And by 'thing', Dean meant a hot night or two before they parted amicably, number saved in the other's phone in case one wanted a sex-filled weekend vacation and didn't want the hassle of picking up someone new. It definitely wasn't a hold-hands-and-have-anniversaries type of 'thing'. Dean was an honest guy, even or maybe especially during short flings.

If his honesty happened to get him a personalized audio track to keep as eternal spank bank material, so much the better.

The hostess spotted him and walked over from the bar, where she had been chatting with the bartender.

"Can I help you?" she asked, smiling politely with none of the false sweetness some people working in the food industry had. Dean gave her his usual flirtatious smirk in return.

"Booth for two, please," he said. "I'm expecting someone."

She nodded and grabbed two menus off of the nearby podium before walking towards the back of the room. Dean followed. When she stopped by the third booth from the wall, Dean slid onto the bench facing the door. The hostess laid a menu down in front of him and one across from him.

"Your server will be right with you," she told him as she left. Dean nodded absently and picked up the menu, half-scanning it and half watching the door. At exactly seven o'clock, not that Dean was checking his watch frequently or anything, the door opened and Castiel walked in. He wore the same tan overcoat from the previous day and what looked like the same or a very similar blue suit.

Dean waved and Castiel looked up. Cas nodded in acknowledgement and made a beeline for the booth.

"Hello, Dean," he said, sliding onto the unoccupied bench.

"Hey, Castiel," Dean replied in greeting. "Glad you could make it." 

"Sorry if I've kept you waiting," Castiel said. He leaned forward and shimmied his arms out of his coat, then lifted himself up a bit to pull the coat out from under himself. He pushed it to the side and adjusted his clothes so they fell comfortably against his skin. Dean gave him a leisurely once over. The coat had been fairly shapeless and though the suit wasn't tailored, it was still a much closer fit. There was a definite hint of muscle beneath the fabric, though Cas wasn't as built as Dean.

"I just got here myself a few minutes ago. You didn't have any trouble finding the place?" Dean asked. Castiel shook his head.

"I may not have been here before, but my friend owns the antiques shop on the next block," he said. "I have passed this establishment a few times."

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by the arrival of their server.

"Hello, my name is Chastity and I'll be your waitress tonight!"

Dean turned to look. The waitress was a slim girl with platinum blonde hair and a white shirt that was a size too small for her. She smiled flirtatiously and flipped a lock of her hair back over her shoulder.

"What can I get for you?" she asked. She was pretty enough and Dean might have flirted in different circumstances, but he wasn't interested tonight. He laid on some charm, just because it was second nature to him, but not enough to make her think he was actually interested.

"I'll take a beer, whatever you've got on tap," he said. Chastity nodded and wrote it down, then turned to Cas.

Castiel was studying the menu, brow lightly furrowed in contemplation.

"And for you?"

"The same, please," Cas said, not looking up from his menu. He missed the sudden flare of interest in the waitress's eyes at the sound of his voice, but Dean didn't. He felt a brief flash of something possessive but squelched it, mentally shaking himself. Flings came and went, they weren't worth getting territorial over. What had gotten into him?

"Sure, that'll be right out," Chastity said. She walked off, swinging her hips a little more than was strictly natural. Dean scowled at her retreating back, but quickly wiped the expression off of his face when he noticed Castiel looking at him.

"Is something wrong?" Cas asked, looking puzzled. Dean shook his head.

"Nope," he replied. Castiel tilted his head a bit, still looking uncertain. Dean forced a smile and let loose with the first plausible excuse he could come up with. "Waitress reminds me of an ex." He wasn't about to call Cas's attention to their server's interest. Not that Dean couldn't hold his own against some ditzy blonde, but Dean wasn't about to go all caveman territorial on Castiel.

He winced. Not that mentioning an ex was much better. Rule number one of dating: do not mention your exes.

Castiel nodded slowly.

"I see," he said. He looked back down at his menu. "Are the burgers here good?"

Apparently Cas was going to let it slide. Excellent.

"They're delicious. Not as good as the ones at the Roadhouse-" If only because Ellen and Jo would kill him if they ever heard him say otherwise and Bobby would help them hide the body. "-but most of what they've got here is pretty good."

Castiel nodded and pushed his menu away.

"You seem to be very close with the people at the Roadhouse. The owner knew exactly what you regularly order," Cas said. "Do you visit there often?"

"Often enough, I guess," Dean said. He glanced towards the bar, wishing Chastity would hurry up with the drinks. Rule number two of dating was to leave emotional baggage at home and Dean wasn't about to explain that Ellen had always kept a close eye on Dean and Sam after marrying Bobby, since their mother had died when Sam was just a baby and their dad had never been around. Ellen had become a second mother to Dean, even if she could never take the place of his actual mom. Of course Ellen knew Dean's regular lunch order; sometimes she'd send Ash over with a bag of food on Dean's lunch break if Bobby told her that Dean wasn't eating enough.

"She's a friend of the family," he finally said. Castiel nodded and they lapsed into a slightly awkward silence. Dean shifted in place, trying to come up with something to salvage the stagnated conversation, but was saved from having to comment on the weather by the timely arrival of Chastity.

"Here are your drinks," she said, placing two glass mugs filled with amber liquid on the table. Dean picked his up immediately and took a long draught. He caught the smile Chastity leveled at Castiel over the rim of his glass and noticed that she had unbuttoned the top few buttons of her shirt.

"What can I get for- oops," she said, 'dropping' her pen. Dean put his mug back on the table a bit more harshly than was strictly necessary. Castiel looked at him, doing that head-tilt thing Dean carefully didn't think of as adorable, and as a result Cas missed the way Chastity bent over. He would have gotten a pretty good eyeful if he had been looking, but he wasn't paying the waitress even a bit of attention.

Dean leaned against the padded back of the bench, something in his chest soothed by Castiel's focus on him. He smiled, hoping it would distract Cas from the slamming of the mug, and Cas turned away. Chastity, by that point, had straightened up.

"Can I take your order?" she asked. She apparently hadn't noticed that Castiel hadn't been watching her, or maybe she had and was just shrugging it off as bad luck and plotting other ways to get Cas to go home with her that night. Dean smirked. Tough luck, Cas was coming home with him. If Cas wanted to, of course.

"I'll have the cheeseburger with fries," Castiel said. "And could you bring me out a glass of water as well, please?"

"Sure thing, coming right out," Chastity said, scribbling something on her notepad. She took Cas's menu and turned to Dean. "And for you?"

"Waffle fry nachoes to start with," he said. "And I'll have the bacon cheeseburger with a baked potato." He held out his menu for her to take.

She marked down his order and smiled politely before grabbing the menu from his hand and turning back to Castiel.

"I'll be back with your water in a few minutes," she told him, giving him an obvious and very slow once-over. Dean gripped the handle of his mug a little tighter. "If there's anything else you want, anything at all, let me know and I'll get it for you." With that, she turned and left the table again, hips swaying. Castiel didn't seem to notice. He picked up his beer and took a sip.

"So, what do you do?" Dean asked, hoping to break the awkward silence.

"I'm the co-owner of a bookstore the next town over," he said, setting his beer down. "I write a bit too, though that's more of a hobby. I'm not paid for it or anything."

Dean inhaled a small mouthful of his beer and broke into a brief coughing fit. He could sense Castiel's alarmed stare, though he didn't dare look up at the other man.

That solved the mystery of how 'Jimmy Novak' chose what stories to read out loud and how he found them. Castiel had probably written all of them. Dean could picture Castiel sitting at his computer, fantasizing and typing out some of the scenes Dean knew by heart. He wondered if Castiel ever needed to take a break from writing to relieve some tension. He imagined Cas sitting at his desk and Dean crawling underneath to blow him while Castiel typed out whatever story he was working on, the tapping of the keys becoming more and more erratic as Cas got closer and closer to-

"Are you all right?" Castiel asked. For a second, his voice blended seamlessly into the fantasy and Dean wondered why he wasn't on his knees before realizing that they were in Another Round, not Castiel's study, and that Castiel would probably be very surprised if Dean suddenly got under the table and offered to blow him.

"I'm fine," Dean choked out. "So, uh, what kind of things do you write?" This was actually the perfect opening. Cas would admit that he wrote gay porn, Dean could act all surprised, and then, oh, coincidence, Dean listened to stuff read out by Jimmy Novak. Had Cas ever heard of him? Of course, Cas was him, but Dean hadn't known that. Nope. It totally wasn't the reason Dean had asked for his number.

Cas looked down at the table and ran a hand through his hair once before letting his palm rest on the back of his neck. He shifted in place and seemed almost uncomfortable, which Dean thought was a bit odd. Dean had asked him out, so it couldn't be the gay thing Castiel was worried about. Was he ashamed to admit that he wrote porn? Really, really hot porn?

"Short stories, mostly," Castiel said. "I have a FictionPress account where I post them."

"FictionPress?" Dean asked, surprised. He had never even heard of that site. "You don't post on Livejournal or anything?" he prompted. Castiel looked at him, startled, but he dropped his gaze back down to the table so quickly that Dean nearly got whiplash on his behalf.

"I've heard of that site, but I wouldn't say I visit it all that often," Cas said, not meeting Dean's eyes. He picked up his mug and drank from it, draining almost half the mug in one go. Dean stared at him, stunned. He was absolutely positive that Castiel and Jimmy Novak were the same person. Cas's voice matched the voice on Dean's tapes exactly. He was obviously lying about the Livejournal thing, but Dean couldn't figure out why. He'd admitted to posting to FictionPress readily enough and though Dean had never heard of the site before, he guessed that Castiel probably posted his less X-rated stories there. Was he really that embarrassed about writing porn?

"So you don't post there?" Dean persisted. Castiel raised his gaze and met Dean's eyes squarely. His face was carefully blank, but his eyes were wary. Even if Dean hadn't known that Cas was lying, he would have suspected it from that look alone. Cas was a terrible liar.

"No. I don't," Cas said. Dean let the subject drop. If Cas wasn't going to admit to writing it or recording it, he wasn't about to admit to listening to it. They lapsed into silence again. Dean took another drink just to give himself something to do while Castiel looked around the room. Castiel's eyes returned to the table in short order, though, apparently not finding anything of interest to watch.

"So..." Dean said finally. "You mentioned you had a brother?"


	2. Chapter 2

Dean thought that the date had gone pretty well. It had taken them a while to get started, but talking about their families had seemed to finally break the ice. It wasn't the most conventional of date conversation topics, but then again, Dean had never been a conventional guy. He learned that Cas had a brother named Gabriel; the silver convertible was actually Gabriel's old car, given to Castiel because Cas's old car was a piece of junk. Cas liked driving with the top down, so he had kept it instead of selling it and using the money to get himself something less flashy.

In exchange, Dean had gotten to talk about Sammy. He had steered clear of topics like Sam's childhood and who had actually raised him, but he doubted that Cas had missed how proud he was of his little brother for doing so well in school. He'd been at the top of his graduating class in high school and had effortlessly gotten into a pretty damn prestigious college. He'd even gotten a scholarship.

The food had finally arrived and Chastity had flirted with Cas some more, but he still didn't seem to notice. Dean had finally had enough and so, when Chastity had left the table, he'd asked Cas if he was planning on discouraging the waitress any time soon. Cas had been surprised when Dean had explained and then looked so much like a puppy in crosshairs the next time Chastity approached that Dean had burst out laughing. Chastity had been offended, but at least she had stopped hitting on Cas.

Conversation had petered out as they ate, but the silence had been more comfortable than previous silences had been. Dean hadn't felt the drive to fill it with chatter. Castiel would sometimes do that stare, the one that made it seem as if he could see straight through Dean, but he would always look away whenever Dean looked up. It struck Dean as a bit strange, since this was usually the part of the night where he and the person he was angling to get into bed would be playing footsie and exchanging smoldering looks over drinks, but he kind of liked that Castiel was playing shy. He'd never understood the guys that went after the quiet, bookwormy types before, always having preferred to spend his time with people who knew what they were doing and knew what they wanted, but this was a refreshing change. If Castiel's stories were any indication, Dean didn't have to worry about Castiel being confused about what to do once they finally got into bed.

He definitely got the sense that Cas liked him, though. He seemed to relax more as the evening went on and it couldn't just be blamed on the alcohol; Cas had stopped after one and had stuck to water while Dean had drunk a second beer and ordered a third after the first was gone. The soul-deep staring was pretty convincing too.

Conversation started back up over pie, which Dean was delighted to learn was also Castiel's dessert of choice. They got into a brief debate over the merits of apple versus blueberry pie, but it had been a friendly argument. The conversation had rambled a bit and Dean had been surprised to find that he actually didn't mind. They had been in Another Round for almost three hours, a good portion of the time spent talking, and he wasn't bored yet. He was even more stunned to find that he wouldn't mind having more of these conversations in the future; he didn't need to feign his interest in Castiel's life, he actually felt it. Castiel seemed equally interested in Dean's stories, given how attentive he was when Dean spoke.

Maybe having a second date wasn't such a far-fetched idea.

Dean didn't really start to suspect that anything was amiss until Castiel asked for Chastity to give them separate checks. Dean was used to paying for his date's meal, whether the person was male or female.

"Dude, I'd have gotten it, I'm not cheap. We didn't need to go Dutch," he said. Castiel looked confused, but Chastity had a look of dawning realization.

"Oh! You two are... I didn't realize," she said apologetically. Castiel glanced at her for a second before looking back to Dean.

"I don't understand," he said. "Is it common for friends to switch off buying meals? Gabriel told me that people usually purchase their own food."

Dean's thoughts slowed down and then squealed to a halt. Suddenly, Cas being so naive in the face of Chastity's flirting wasn't funny.

"Friends?" he heard himself ask. Castiel nodded slowly, then frowned.

"Are we not friends?" Cas asked. Dean felt the momentary urge to bang his head against the table. No wonder this hadn't felt much like a regular date and there hadn't been footsie or smoldering looks; Castiel hadn't known. He hadn't thought of this as a date, just two friends going out together.

His decision to not mention the gay porn suddenly made a lot more sense.

Chastity's look of realization had turned to one of sympathy. Dean scowled at her and she looked away.

"Dean?"

Dean looked at Cas. Castiel looked very much like a puppy just then, one that had just discovered its reflection in a mirror and wasn't quite certain what to make of it. Dean felt his mouth move before he had picked out what he wanted to say.

"Yeah, of course we're friends," he said. Castiel's expression immediately lightened and he gave Dean a small smile. Dean wanted to kick himself. He forced himself to smile back and turned to Chastity. "Separate checks, please."

The waitress nodded and left.

Dean sighed and looked at his mug. It was still half-full. He picked it up and drank the rest in one long gulp.

He should have made it clear that this was a date. He couldn't very well take his words back now: 'No, we're not friends, I just want to get into your pants'. For one, it made Dean sound like a dick who only thought about one thing, and for another Cas was probably naive enough not to understand what Dean was talking about. He'd probably offer to tell Dean what store he used and what brand he bought, if Dean liked his trousers so much.

Revealing that this was supposed to be a date might kill whatever this was that they had going on, be it friendship or fraternity. To Dean's surprise, he actually liked Cas, beyond just his voice; he didn't want to lose what they had built tonight. If Cas wanted to be just friends, then they'd be just friends.

He’d have to jerk himself off at home after they hung out, but they’d be ‘just friends’ nonetheless.

A niggling voice at the back of his head reminded him of those stares he had been getting from Castiel all night long, but those were painfully easy to dismiss in the face of Cas's naivety. It could just be the way the guy stared at everyone, or it could be him trying to figure Dean out. Nothing to do with wanting to get Dean between the sheets.

Damnit.

"Is something wrong, Dean?" Castiel asked. Dean looked up from the table and forced another smile onto his face.

"Nope, nothing's wrong," he replied. "Everything's just peachy."

Castiel nodded slowly, head tilted slightly like he wasn't sure whether or not to take what Dean had said at face value. Apparently, Cas was not only naive, but didn't understand sarcasm either.  
Chastity returned with the checks. Dean was tempted to ask her to add a shot of whiskey onto his, but he had to drive home and the check was already brought. He'd have to suffer his low level of inebriation until he could get back to his apartment. Then, of course, all bets were off and he could bitch about his shitty luck to Jack Daniels.

Heading to Sidetrack and attempting to pick someone up did cross his mind, but he doubted he'd be able to manage. This date going south had soured his mood too much for him to be properly charming and he had the sinking feeling that he would compare anyone he brought home tonight to his fantasies of Castiel. He'd be a lousy lay and it wouldn't be fair to whoever was dumb enough to go home with him when he was clearly distracted.

He sighed and pulled some money out of his wallet, enough to cover dinner, drinks, and the tip. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Castiel hand over a credit card. Dean stared down at the table top and picked at a small gouge in the wood with his nails, leg jiggling with his desire to leave.

"Are you certain you're all right?" Castiel asked. Dean nodded, not looking up from the table.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said. It wasn't really a lie. He'd go home, put in his favorite Casa Erotica, have some whiskey, give Dean Junior some tender loving care, and call it a night. He'd get over this obsession with Castiel's voice and everything would be just peachy.

He was getting Cas's friendship out of this not-date, though, so maybe things really would be just fine. Dean had few friends as it was and he could use another one. He could see Castiel becoming something like a second Sam, a third brother to round out the Winchester family, though Dean would always put Sammy first. He could still be close to Cas, even if it wasn't the way he had wanted or had envisioned.

He looked up and managed a real smile at Castiel this time.

"Really, I'm fine. I had fun tonight." Dean chuckled a bit. It was such a Hollywood, end-of-first-date thing to say. "We should hang out again soon. You watch sports? We could meet at the Roadhouse and watch the game on Sunday."

Castiel tilted his head back, considering.

"We close the shop on Sundays," he said slowly. "I usually attend morning Mass, so I'll be free by the evening."

"Is that a 'yes'?" Dean asked, half-teasing. It sounded like Cas went to church regularly, most likely every Sunday. The likelihood that Cas was actually straight increased. Dean knew that it wasn't a for-sure thing, but most people he knew that went to church regularly tended to be hetero.

Odd that he wrote gay porn in his spare time, but maybe it was a job of some sort? He’d said that the writing was a hobby and that he wasn’t paid, but then again he hadn’t said a single word about his Jimmy Novak account.

Castiel nodded seriously.

"Yes, Dean. I'd like to see you on Sunday for the game."

"Awesome. It's a da-" Dean shook his head and cleared his throat. "It'll be fun. I'll see you on Sunday at the Roadhouse. Is five o'clock okay?" The kickoff wasn't until seven, but tables filled up fast and Ellen couldn't just turn away paying customers.

"That would be fine," Cas said. Dean spied Chastity coming back with Castiel's credit card and his receipts. Since this wasn't a date, he was under no obligation to stay while Castiel paid for his meal. He didn't need to walk the other man to his car, or lead him to the Impala and bring him back to Dean's apartment, give him the five-second grand tour before leading him to the bedroom and laying him down-

Dean banished the thought from his head before it could take root. He could entertain those fantasies when he was home, not right now.

"Great, I'll see you then," he said, sliding off the bench on his side of the booth just as Chastity walked up. He nodded politely at her and she grinned sympathetically in response.

"Have a nice night," she told him.

"Thanks, you too," he replied. Chastity turned to Castiel and gave him the receipts, indicating which one was his to keep and which he needed to sign. Castiel didn't seem to be paying attention. His eyes were fixed on Dean.

"Goodbye, Dean. I will see you on Sunday," he said. Dean nodded, his own eyes caught and held by Castiel's. He couldn't bring himself to look away.

"Yeah... definitely," he heard himself say. Castiel finally looked at the receipts the waitress had handed him and Dean was free. He turned away and walked towards the door, mentally throttling himself. He could get this under control by Sunday. If he wanted to be able to content himself with Castiel's friendship, the quicker he nipped this obsession in the bud, the better.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Sam?" Dean called out as he walked into the apartment. He flicked the lights on, illuminating the living room/kitchen/dining area that formed the main part of their two-bedroom apartment. He saw a small note on the table and headed over to it.

'At Jessica's for the night,' it read, in Sam's handwriting. Dean remembered Sammy saying something about sleeping over at his girlfriend's house. It was a relief; with Sam out of the way, he could watch Casa Erotica in peace and not worry about Sam bitching at him for watching it in the living room. It wasn't like Dean had a laptop of his own or a TV in his room he could watch his tapes on.

Dean crumpled up the note and tossed it in the kitchen garbage can on his way to his room to pick out something to watch. Listening to Castiel all night had desensitized him to the power of the man's voice somewhat, but there was still a healthy throb of arousal just beneath the surface of his skin. It wouldn't take much to get him hard.

Dean walked through the open doorway to his room and picked his way over piles of dirty laundry. He knelt next to his bed and reached underneath for the shoebox that housed some of his Casa Erotica tapes. He had at least three boxes for that series alone, but they were all good. He'd just take his favorite of whichever box met his hand first.

His hand met cardboard and he pulled it out, grinning when he saw which one it was. The orange Nike box was the one he had put his absolute favorites in. It was only a small stroke of luck, but it was something. Dean flipped open the top and thought briefly before digging out Casa Erotica 12. He shoved the shoebox back underneath his bed and grabbed a half-empty bottle of lube from his nightstand drawer before heading back to the living room and the TV. He popped the tape into the VHS player and set the lubricant next to his spot on the couch before heading to the bathroom and grabbing a box of Kleenex. Sam would pull the ultimate bitchface if Dean stained the couch.

Dean settled himself on his spot on the couch and grabbed the remote from where it rested on the arm. He fastforwarded through the tape to the good stuff, a lecherous grin breaking out over his face as he hit 'play'.

What little plot the tape did have was mostly about Father Christopher questioning his faith in God. Dean wasn't entirely sure, he'd only sat through the two minutes of plot exposition once. Naturally, a she-devil showed up to tempt the priest and, this being porn, she tempted him with her body. Dean was of the opinion that any God that didn't allow a guy some leeway when presented with someone who looked like that - long dark hair, full lips, gorgeous curves - was a total asshole.

Dean ran a hand over the front of his jeans as he listened to Father Christopher's protests turn to moans as the she-devil knelt before him and opened up his pants. The priest's hands came down on her head, tangling in her hair and urging her to take him deeper.

Dean groaned in time with Father Christopher, his jeans becoming uncomfortably tight. He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants before shoving both his pants and his underwear down to mid-thigh. He settled back onto the couch, shivering a bit at the contact of use-worn material touched his backside. Dean uncapped the lubricant tube and squirted some onto his palm before running a hand over his semi-hard length, imagining himself in place of the priest onscreen. He imagined that his back was up against a wall, any wall, anywhere, and his hands were buried in soft, dark hair. Full lips were stretched wide around him, tongue working him expertly as passion-darkened blue eyes stared into him and saw through _everything_ -

Dean opened his eyes, bringing himself abruptly out of the fantasy and attempting to banish the image of Castiel on his knees from his mind. Fantasizing about Cas would not help him stop fantasizing about Cas.

He just needed to watch a little bit more of the tape. That would drive the other man from his mind. The best part was about to start.

Dean watched as an angel appeared on screen, wearing a dress that would have been modest if it had been opaque and if it didn't have slits up the sides to her hips. The devil and the angel 'fought' over the priest, mostly by attacking each other with lips, teeth, and tongues.

Dean leaned forward on the couch, stroking himself with his lubed hand while his eyes stayed glued to the screen. He kept his touch gentle, not desperate for release yet. The devil had control and was stripping the angel while Father Christopher pulled at the devil's clothes.

There was nothing not hot about two nearly-naked women making out. Dean watched as the angel took control and forced the devil up on the altar. He added a little twist to his wrist at the end of every stroke, body burning with heat. The devil beckoned the priest forward and he came, standing just behind the angel as she bent over.

Dean groaned and leaned back on the couch, spreading his legs wider to accommodate his hand better as the angel on the screen widened her stance to accommodate the priest. He stroked himself faster, harder, running his thumb over the now-leaking tip every so often.

He groped for the Kleenex with his free hand, yanking one free of the box and holding it at the ready. He shut his eyes and allowed himself to fantasize about being the priest in the videotape, buried balls-deep in a beautiful angel. His hips jerked into the motions of his hand, pressure building low in his belly as the fantasy began to take hold. She was tight and hot around him, insides slick, and she was begging for it.

_'Please...' Soft mewls, body rocking back against him. 'I want you inside me. I need it, please, Dean...'_

Her voice morphed in his mind, starting off light and feminine but ending deep and husky, sending shivers up Dean's spine.

No, no... he was thinking about the chick in the video. He wasn't picturing a body with hard planes, he was imagining one with soft curves. Long blonde hair with a hint of a curl, not slightly spiky, short, dark hair that was the perfect length to curl his fingers into. He wasn't sure what color the angel's eyes in the video were, but he'd take brown or green or red, anything but blue.

Dean heard the angel on the screen cry out with surprise and pleasure. He could picture the scene, he'd seen it so many times he didn't need to open his eyes. The angel was now on the priest's lap on the altar, the priest holding her around the waist and his dick buried in her ass. The she-devil was now completely naked and was in-between the angel's legs, tongue and three fingers working her open while Father Christopher rocked into her from behind.

Dean imagined fucking Castiel in a church, bending him over the altar and thrusting into him, one hand stroking Cas's cock and the other holding onto his hip. Cas would look blissed out, the same moans and cries issuing from his lips that Dean had memorized from the cassette tapes.

 _'Dean...'_ And that sound, the sound of Cas calling his name. It wasn't something he had ever heard, not in that tone, but he could imagine how it would sound if Castiel cried out at the moment he hit his peak.

"Cas..." Dean moaned, trying to keep the motions of his hand steady as pleasure threatened to overtake him. His hips bucked helplessly forward and he could feel his balls tightening with imminent release.

High, feminine cries of pleasure issued from the TV, but Dean was beyond hearing them. All he could hear were deep groans and breathy, husky pleas as Castiel moved against him, taking Dean deeper into his body. Immersed in his fantasy, Dean no longer felt his hand around him, but instead the heat of his palm was the heat of Castiel's body. His fingers were Castiel's inner walls and the lube on them was what he had used to gently coax the muscles open, stretching and preparing Castiel until he was relaxed enough to allow Dean inside of him and begging for Dean to fill him.

_'Ah, Dean-!'_

Dean came with a choked cry of Castiel's name, vision whiting out.

He took a deep breath as he slowly came down from his high, body still shaking from the pleasure. He wadded up the used tissue and grabbed a new one to wipe up the little bit extra that had gotten on his hand and stomach. Dean arched up and pulled his underwear and pants back up, tucking himself back into his clothing before zipping up and refastening his belt with trembling hands.

On screen, the she-devil and the angel had teamed up and were now dominating the priest. Dean stopped the tape and hit 'rewind' on the remote before pushing himself up off the couch. His legs were a bit unsteady beneath him, but by the time he made it to the kitchen, he was firm on his feet. Dean was a bit lethargic from the orgasm, but the afterglow hadn't stuck around.

He sighed as he dug in the cabinet for the remainder of his bottle of Jack.

He would get over this by Sunday. He had to. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sam took one look at his face the next morning and started snickering. Dean glared at him over his frosted flakes, not saying a word as Sam dropped his overnight bag next to his chair and walked into the kitchen.

"I take it you got rejected by everyone you tried to pick up? The old Winchester charm not working for you anymore, Dean?" Sam asked, grabbing his healthy, granola-based cereal out of the cabinet. Dean took another bite of his cereal defiantly.

"Still works fine, just couldn't find anyone worth it," he replied. Sam sighed. Dean could hear the sound of dishes clinking as Sam got a bowl from the cabinet.

"I'm happy with Jessica, you know," Sam said casually. Dean tensed. He recognized that tone. "Haven't you ever thought about-"

"No," Dean said shortly. He wasn't the type to settle down, plain and simple. The longest relationship he'd managed had lasted two weeks before Cassie couldn't handle his 'unhealthy brother-fixation' anymore, and no one came before Sam. He'd contented himself with one-night or two-night stands ever since; hell, he _enjoyed_ his lifestyle. "Eat your rabbit food. I'll see you after work."

"Dean-" Sam started to say, but Dean abandoned his bowl on the table, grabbed his jacket, and headed out.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sunday finally rolled around and Dean was still not over it. He'd gone to Sidetrack the night before, hoping to find someone to release some tension with, but had only been there thirty minutes when he realized that he was comparing every guy in the place to Castiel. He'd mentally rejected every man in there as a possible bedmate for the night because they were too blond, their hair too long, too short, their eyes too green, too brown, their skin too tanned, or too pale. Once he realized that he was just looking for a replacement for Castiel, he'd left.

He still had time. As long as Castiel didn't figure out that Dean wanted him, Dean would be free to fantasize about him and pursue Cas's friendship. He could totally keep the two separate. Given how naive Cas was, it wasn't likely that he'd figure out Dean's feelings any time soon.

Dean briefly wondered if it made him an asshole, to seek Cas's friendship in public and jerk off to thoughts of him behind closed doors, or if it made him the sorriest bastard on the face of the earth, to seek to be in the other man's 'friend zone' for eternity. He decided it didn't bother him, since he couldn't change his course no matter how hard he tried.

He pulled up to the Roadhouse at ten to five, noting with some surprise that Castiel's silver convertible was already parked in the lot. He'd hoped to have the chance to talk to Ellen and Jo before Cas arrived. Jo now knew that Dean was a bit flexible in regards to sex partners and he didn't want her letting it slip to Cas that Dean's aim in getting his phone number had been a date. Ellen had probably always had her suspicions about Dean's sexuality and if Jo had mentioned anything to her, Ellen was sure to stick her nose in at some point tonight.

Hopefully one of them hadn't already said something damning to Castiel.

Dean hurriedly locked up the Impala and headed into the Roadhouse. He could tell from how full the parking lot was that business must be pretty good, though it would pick up to booming in short order. It always did when a game was on.

He opened the door and hear the familiar bell jangle its welcome. Ellen was nowhere in sight, but instead Ash was behind the bar serving drinks. Jo was playing the part of hostess and she smiled when she spotted him.

"Hey, Jo," Dean said as she walked over.

"Hey yourself," she replied. "I just seated Mr. Collins and his friend a few minutes ago. They said they were expecting you."

"'Friend'?" Dean repeated, feeling the bottom drop out of his stomach. Sure, this wasn't a date, but he had been looking forward to getting to spend some more time with Cas. Did Cas feel like he needed a third person along as protection or a buffer?

Jo shrugged.

"No idea. Mr. Collins called him 'Gabriel', I think."

Dean heaved a sigh, equal parts relief and resignation. Better a brother than a friend, but it would be best if Cas had brought no one at all.

"He said he had a brother by that name," he said. "Guess Cas must have brought him along to watch the game."

Jo raised an eyebrow.

"'Cas', huh?" she said teasingly. "And he's already introducing you to his family. Don't you usually head for the hills before this point?" Dean scowled. Jo looked surprised and then her expression morphed into equal parts contrition and concern. "Dean?"

"We're just friends, Jo," he said. He shook his head and chuckled unhappily. "He thought I asked for his number so we could hang out and be best buds. What was I supposed to tell him?"

"The truth?" Jo offered. Dean gave her a Look. She winced sympathetically. "Here, I'll get you a drink and show you to the table. First beer is on the house."

"Thanks," Dean said. He followed her to the bar and stood back a few feet while she chatted with Ash. Ash grinned at him and nodded in greeting, which Dean returned. Ash quickly filled a glass from the tap and handed it over to Jo, who took it and motioned for Dean to follow her. Dean did so, trailing after her through the small maze of tables, half of which were already occupied to capacity, before Jo finally stopped at one of the few booths in the Roadhouse. Cas was already sitting down with another man next to him - Gabriel, Dean assumed. Dean sized him up. Gabriel was short with hair long enough to almost rival Sam's. His sideburns were less extreme, though. His nose was a bit pointy and his mouth seemed to be fixed in a permanent smirk, which widened upon seeing Dean.

"You must be Dean," he said. Castiel looked up from the table as Dean slid onto the bench across from him. Jo set his beer down in front of him and he picked it up before answering. Jo walked off, headed back to the front.

"I take it you're Gabriel?" he said. He didn't wait for Gabriel's answer, but looked at Cas and smiled. "Hey, Castiel. Glad to see you could make it." He took a sip of his beer.

"I apologize for not warning you that my brother would be coming," Cas said. "He heard where I was going and wanted to come along."

Dean opened his mouth to tell Cas that it wasn't a problem, nope, not at all, when Gabriel beat him to the punch.

"Of course he doesn't mind, bro!" Gabriel said. "Besides, after everything you told me about him, of course I had to-"

"Gabriel," Castiel said warningly, looking at his older brother sternly. Gabriel shut his mouth and mimed zipping it closed before locking it and throwing away the key. Dean watched them quizzically, wondering what exactly Cas had told his brother about Dean. Had some part of Cas's brain picked up on the fact that Dean wanted to get him horizontal? Even if Cas himself hadn't realized it, if he had mentioned something to Gabriel and Gabriel had decided to tag along to defend his younger brother's virtue...

Dean snorted and shook his head. Now he was just being silly.

"So, he's mentioned me?" Dean said, more than a little curious. Gabriel lifted his eyebrows and nodded enthusiastically. Castiel looked straight ahead, not at Dean but rather at a point behind his right ear. He seemed tense and Dean frowned, about to ask him what was wrong when Cas spoke.

"I said that you had fixed my car and that we had gotten drinks," he said shortly, clearly intending to end the conversation there. "Gabriel is always interested in meeting new friends of mine."

Dean nodded, letting it go. He wasn't going to pry where he obviously wasn't welcome.

"So, you guys order yet?" Dean asked, noticing the lack of menus on the table. Castiel and Gabriel both shook their heads.

"Nope, we were waiting for you," Gabriel said. "Now that you're here... I'll go ask the hostess for some menus." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Wish me luck."

Gabriel slid off of the bench and sauntered off towards the front of the Roadhouse, where Jo was standing and waiting for the inevitable pre-game rush. Dean watched him warily, eyes narrowed with protectiveness even though he knew Jo could fend off any unwanted advances. It was his big-brother instinct kicking in. No matter that Gabriel was related to Castiel, Dean barely knew the guy.

"You're not going to stop him?" Cas asked softly. Dean looked back at him, bewildered.

"Stop him?" he asked. It clicked. "Oh, you mean stop him from hitting on Jo?"

Castiel nodded, tilting his head and watching Dean searchingly. Dean chuckled and shook his head.

"No. Jo can handle it herself." Bobby had made sure of that. Ellen had trained her daughter a bit before she had even met Bobby, but Bobby had made damn certain that his stepdaughter would be able to handle any asshole that came her way. If Jo's sharp tongue didn't do the trick, a well-placed punch or kick would.

Cas nodded slowly, realization dawning in his eyes.

"You must have a lot of faith in her," he said. Dean frowned and opened his mouth to ask what Cas meant by that, but was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Well, hello there, stranger."

Dean turned, grin already breaking out on his face. Ellen stood at the end of the table, one eyebrow raised and her hands on her hips.

"You weren't going to eat here and not say 'hello' to me, were you, Dean Winchester?" she asked pointedly.

"Ellen, it's great to see you," he replied. "Of course I wasn't going to leave without saying 'hello'." He would've liked to talk to her alone, just in case Jo had mentioned something about his 'date', but too late now.

"I don't understand," Cas said suddenly. Dean and Ellen both looked at him. Cas had a puzzled frown on his face. "Why did she call you 'stranger'? I thought you said that she was a friend of the family?"

Dean winced, hoping Ellen wouldn't take how he had described her to Cas as an insult. Ellen just laughed, much to his surprise.

"'Friend of the family', huh?" she drawled, glancing back at Dean. "I like to think of myself more like an aunt or a second mother to Dean and Sam." Her voice dropped before she continued, low with sympathy and regret. "Though I'll never be able to replace their real mom." There was a beat of heavy silence, during which Dean looked down at the table, and then Ellen changed the subject.

"So, what's your name again? I don't think we were properly introduced the last time you were here," she said, looking back at Cas. Dean coughed, drawing their attention back to himself.

"Ellen, this is Castiel. Cas, this is Ellen," he said, nodding at them in turn.

"Good to meet you," Ellen said, putting her hand out for Castiel to shake.

"Likewise," Cas replied, grabbing her hand and shaking it twice, firmly, before pulling away.

"I take it you boys are here for the game. Get your orders in as soon as you can, or it'll be a while before you get your food. We're starting to fill up," Ellen said, glancing around the Roadhouse. Dean and Castiel followed her gaze. There did seem to be fewer empty tables, mostly around the edges of the room where it was difficult to see the TVs. "I have to head back to the bar, but Dean, I don't want it to be another month before I see you in here again. I want to hear from you, not have to hear everything secondhand from Bobby or Jo. Understand?"

Dean nodded.

"Yeah, I got it," he said. Ellen half-smiled at him and left. There were another few beats of silence and then Castiel spoke.

"You called me 'Cas'," he said wonderingly. Dean scratched at the back of his neck.

"Sorry?" he said. "If you don't like it, I can just call you 'Castiel'." He liked the shortened version of Cas's name, though. It rolled off of his tongue much easier.

"No, it's fine. I like it," Cas said. Dean relaxed. Castiel frowned again. "I still don't understand why Ellen called you 'stranger'."

"Dude, do you really not know how to recognize teasing when you hear it?" Dean asked, chuckling. He took another sip of his beer. "She was teasing me."

"Gabriel says that I am incapable of picking up on sarcasm or teasing," Castiel admitted, looking down at the table. Dean grinned softly.

"Well then, I'll just have to teach you how to recognize it," Dean said, the barest hint of a question in his voice. It was an offer, not a command. Cas looked up and half-smiled at him, though there was a hint of frustration in his eyes. 

"Gabriel says that, too. He's been trying to teach me to recognize it for ages, though he still tells me I'm hopeless," he said.

"Well, hang around with me some more," Dean said, feeling a jolt of excitement at the prospect. He tried to keep what he was feeling from his voice. "I speak fluent sarcasm. You'll be able to recognize it in no time."

Some of the frustration bled from Castiel's eyes and his lips quirked up in a full smile.

"I'd like that," he said. Dean felt a flutter of heat in his chest and ruthlessly squelched it, but he couldn't escape Castiel's eyes. For a second, staring at Cas's baby blues, Dean was struck by the urge to just lean over the table and-

The moment was shattered by the arrival of Gabriel. He dropped two menus onto the table, the noise breaking Dean out of his trance, and slid onto the bench next to Cas with a third menu in his hand. He was rubbing his cheek with his other, over a faint red mark.

"Well, everyone here's just _so_ friendly," Gabriel said, wincing theatrically. Dean laughed, pieces falling into place. He'd be willing to bet that the red mark was the exact size and shape of Jo's palm.

"Now, you see that?" he asked Castiel, pointing at Gabriel. "That was sarcasm." He took another sip of his beer and turned to Gabriel. "Don't take it too hard, pal. You're not her type."

"Oh, really?" Gabriel said, gaze suddenly intent. "What exactly is her 'type', then... you?" His voice wasn't the least bit accusatory, but it was searching. For what, Dean had no idea. Gabriel wanted to prove something with his question, though what he wanted to prove or to who, Dean hadn't the foggiest.

"Me?" he said, leaning back on the bench and giving Gabriel his cockiest smirk. "I am everyone's type." He had no idea what Gabriel was driving at, but it was better to play it safe, just in case things went bad. If Castiel figured out that Dean wanted him and if Castiel was bothered by it in some way, either disgusted or angry, Dean could always claim that he was dating someone. Jo would probably play along, if he asked her.

He was assuming, of course, that his attraction to Cas would last that long, long enough for it to be a problem. It wouldn't. Definitely not.

He took a long sip of his beer.

"I did tell you not to do that," Castiel muttered to Gabriel. Gabriel shrugged and flipped open his menu.

"Had to try, little bro," he said. "You'll never know if you don't try." Gabriel's words seemed to hold a second meaning for Castiel, who drew away from him as though electrocuted. Dean looked from one brother to the other, briefly wishing that he had brought Sam with him. Then he could have super-secretive half conversations with _his_ brother that left his dinner partners in the dark. Hell, Sam was smart, he'd probably be able to translate the half-conversation Gabriel and Cas were having.

On second thought, Sam _was_ smart and would probably figure out that Dean was attracted to Cas. Better that Sam stayed home. Dean didn't need this rubbed in his face or Sam encouraging him to go for it. He wasn't sure which was worse.

Castiel opened up his menu, studiously not looking at Gabriel.

"You said that the cheeseburgers were good here?" Cas asked, more for confirmation than out of curiosity. He didn't look at Dean, and so Dean's nod went unnoticed.

"Yeah, they're excellent," Dean said. He toyed with the edge of the menu Gabriel had brought for him, already ready to order. He wouldn't be surprised if Jo had ordered the cook to begin making his the moment she had realized that he was coming.

"You're not going to look at the menu?" Gabriel asked, peeking over the top of his menu. "Know it that well, do you?"

"I know what I like," Dean replied, shrugging. "Jo's probably already told the cook I'm here."

"She orders for you, is that-" Gabriel started, raising his eyebrow.

"Dean has certain food items he usually gets when he eats here," Castiel interrupted. "It was how I was able to choose what to bring him when he worked on my car."

The two brothers stared each other down for a moment. Dean looked from one to the other, annoyance and frustration warring with his confusion. Finally, Gabriel broke the staring contest.

"Well." He turned away from Cas, folded up his menu, and set it down. "I know what I'm getting. Hope the steaks here are good."

"Everything here is good," Dean told him, a bit defensively. Gabriel dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

"No need to take it personally, I didn't mean anything by it." He turned to Castiel. "Know what you want yet?"

Castiel nodded and folded up his menu as well. As though that had been some kind of signal, their waitress appeared at the end of their table.

"Hello, my name is Stephanie and I'll be your server tonight," she said, taking a pen and a pad of paper out of her apron pocket. She flipped her brown, braided hair over her shoulder and smiled apologetically. "Sorry about the wait. What can I get for you?"

"I'll have a strawberry margarita," Gabriel said. "To eat, I'd like the eight ounce ribeye with a baked sweet potato on the side. Some honey barbeque sauce, too. Can I get extra caramelized onions on the steak?"

"Sure, can do," Stephanie said, marking it down. "How would you like your steak cooked and what toppings on the potato?"

"Medium. Brown sugar and sour cream for the sweet potato," Gabriel said. "For dessert, I'd like the ice cream sundae, heavy on the fudge and whipped cream. Could you bring that out with dinner?"

"With dinner?" the waitress repeated, surprised. She recovered quickly. "Sure. And for you?" She addressed her question to Castiel.

"I'd like the Roadhouse burger," Cas replied. "No pickles, please. And an iced tea."

"Got it." Another note on the pad. "It comes with fries and your choice of baked apples or coleslaw on the side."

"Colesl-"

"He'll take the apples," Gabriel interjected, grinning. Dean scowled at him.

"Hey, it ain't your dinner," he said. "Let Cas get the coleslaw if he wants it."

"'Cas'?" Gabriel echoed, raising an eyebrow. He turned to Castiel, smirking. "Aw, Cassie, he's already got a pet name for you! And he's so protective..."

Cas tensed and looked down at the table. Dean glared.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded, chills snaking down his back. Gabriel didn't know how Dean felt, did he? Had Cas actually noticed something and mentioned it to his brother without realizing what it meant? Or was Dean just horribly transparent?

Or was Gabriel simply trying for some innocent teasing and Dean was just paranoid?

Gabriel looked at him for a moment, the same intent look Dean had noticed earlier, and then he smiled triumphantly. Dean's stomach dropped.

"I just think it's cute, the crush-" Gabriel started to say, and Dean's heart flipped into overdrive. That smug bastard _knew_ , God knows how.

"He'll take the coleslaw," Dean said loudly, attempting to drown Gabriel out.

"I'll take the apples," Castiel said, at the exact same time and at the same volume as Dean. Dean and Cas stared at each other for a moment.

"The apples-" Cas started.

"The coleslaw-" Dean said, simultaneously. Gabriel laughed.

"Could you two be any more _married_ , or what?" he asked. Dean and Cas both glared at him in unison and that sent Gabriel into another wave of hysterics. Dean shook his head, heart pounding in his chest and palms sweaty from nerves. Hopefully Cas would just ignore Gabriel and Dean's secret could stay secret a little longer. How the short fucker had figured it out so quickly, Dean had no idea.

He waved his hand vaguely in Castiel's direction, ceding the floor and the order to him. Castiel nodded and looked at the waitress, who was staring at all of them with a faintly bemused expression.

"The apples, please," Cas said. Stephanie nodded and wrote it down.

"If you're sure..." she said slowly, waiting for Castiel's nod before she turned to Dean. "Dean, your usual?"

"As always," he confirmed, forcing out a grin. "What kind of pie is it today?"

"Strawberry-rhubarb," Stephanie answered. Dean's grin became a little less forced and a bit more real.

"Sounds good to me," he said. The waitress smiled back, nodded, and collected their menus before leaving. Dean picked up his beer and took another long sip of it, shooting a worried glance at Cas and a pointed glare at Gabriel. Gabriel smirked in response.

"So, now that we're all settled," he said. "How about we get to know each other a little better?" He chuckled and leaned back on the bench, reaching into his pocket and absently pulling out a piece of hard candy. "Well, Dean and I can get to know one another. I know you two already talked _plenty_ on your date a few days ago."

Dean slammed his beer down on the table, ready to tell Gabriel to shut the hell up, but Cas was already a step ahead of him.

"Gabriel," Castiel said warningly. "We had a deal."

Gabriel shut his mouth, but he was still smirking.

"A deal?" Dean asked, looking over at Cas. The longer this night went on, the more convinced Dean was that Cas had to be straight. Why else would he get so annoyed with his brother for calling his and Dean's get-together for drinks a 'date'? Sure, it hadn't been one, but as teasing went, calling it a date was fairly harmless. The only reason Dean could think of for Cas to get so annoyed was that he was a heterosexual guy trying to defend his masculinity. Considering that Gabriel had called him 'Cassie', it was probably an uphill battle.

Or Cas was, like Dean, resentful that the outing wasn't a date and was annoyed with Gabriel for rubbing his face in it, but Dean was not nearly that lucky.

Castiel's eyes flicked to Dean and then down at the table. Gabriel opened up his hard candy noisily and popped it into his mouth.

"My brother enjoys teasing people," Cas said. "Please don't pay any attention to him. He promised me that he would behave himself if I allowed him to come along."

At least it seemed like Castiel wasn't putting any stock in what Gabriel was saying. Dean breathed a little easier.

"No problem, I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it," he said, taking another sip of his beer. He was not nearly drunk enough for how he was feeling right now. "And hey, you're already making progress. You can recognize teasing when you hear it."

Castiel's lips quirked up and Dean couldn't help but grin in response.

"You two..." Gabriel said, shaking his head with fond exasperation. He crunched down on his candy, chewed, and swallowed. "Ah, that's _sweet_."

Not sure if Gabriel was remarking on the taste of the candy or if he was teasing Dean again despite having just been warned not to, Dean decided to let it pass. 

Stephanie returned and handed out drinks to the silent table. Dean lifted his beer for a refill and Stephanie whisked it away wordlessly.

"So, Dean, Cas tells me you're a mechanic," Gabriel said, then took a sip of his margarita. "Any other hobbies?"

Dean looked at him warily. Gabriel returned his gaze with an expression of wounded innocence.  
"What? A guy can't make small talk now?"

If the guy was Gabriel then no, no he couldn't, Dean thought privately. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Castiel doing that intent, soul-deep stare again. They hadn't gotten around to talking about hobbies last time, so Dean heaved and sigh and decided he could answer. Not to satisfy Gabriel's curiosity, but to satisfy Cas's.

"I don't have too many hobbies," he said. He'd never had the time. "I watch football when I get the chance. I hunt on the weekends sometimes. I go camping with my brother. I restore old cars, when I have the time and the money."

"Ah, real outdoorsman, then. Hunting, camping... real manly-man kind of hobbies. Restoring cars and all that," Gabriel said. "Real opposite of my brother, like yin and yang."

"Really," Dean said flatly, turning deliberately to Castiel. "So, Cas, what do you do for fun?"

"I enjoy reading," Cas said, fiddling with his straw. "As I mentioned at our last meeting, I write as well. Those take up most of my time, when I'm not at the shop." Cas shrugged. "When the weather is good, I like to go kite flying."

"Kite flying, huh?" Dean said, smiling a bit. He could picture Cas, all serious and in his business suit, staring blankly at a downed kite and asking it to fly. He chuckled at the image. "Sounds like fun."

"He also enjoys candlelit dinners and long walks," Gabriel piped up. Cas tensed and Dean turned back to Gabriel, fuming. He knew that Cas had invited the guy along, and that Gabriel was Cas's brother, but if he didn't cut that shit out right now-

Well, Dean wasn't entirely sure what he'd do, but Gabriel wouldn't like it. It would probably involve bloody knuckles and a broken nose. It would be one thing if he was just rubbing Dean's nose in it, but he was clearly making Cas uncomfortable.

Gabriel didn't seem to be paying Dean any attention, however. His gaze had moved to Castiel, one eyebrow raised curiously.

"You told Dean that you write? Did you tell him _what_ you write?" Gabriel prodded. Cas didn't meet Gabriel's eyes and the shorter man sighed. "Cassie..."

"Look, he told me enough," Dean snapped. "Why don't you back off?"

He was perfectly aware of what Cas wrote, though neither Cas nor Gabriel knew that.

"Oh? He did, did he?" Gabriel asked, turning to Dean. "Have you read any of it yet?"

"Gabriel, that's enough," Cas said, narrowing his eyes at his brother. Gabriel ignored him.

"Have you _listened_ to-"

"I haven't read anything yet, but that's because I know jack shit about FictionPress," Dean said, cutting him off. "If Cas tells me how to find him on there, then I would."

Gabriel's eyes widened in disbelief. He turned back to Castiel.

"FictionPress? You told him about your _FictionPress_ account?"

It was Castiel's turn to ignore his brother. He was staring at Dean in surprise, blue eyes impossibly wide and soft lips parted.

"Really?" he asked Dean. "You didn't mention reading as one of your hobbies..." His voice trailed off uncertainly, eyes still wide. Dean couldn't refuse eyes like that.

"I'll take it up," he promised. He winced internally, wondering how'd he'd hide his new hobby from Sam, but then Cas gave him a small smile and he couldn't regret promising.

"Look, Dean," Gabriel said, breaking back into the conversation. "If you really want to see my brother's best work, look up Jimmy No-"

"Please excuse my brother and I for a moment," Cas said hurriedly, shoving Gabriel off of the bench so quickly that he nearly faceplanted on the floor.

"Hey, what gives? I was only trying to help," Gabriel said indignantly, head turned to glare petulantly at Castiel as Cas shoved him towards the front of the Roadhouse.

"You are _not_ helping..." Cas said, barely audible as he pushed his brother further and further from the table. Dean watched them go, confused.

What on Earth was Gabriel trying to help Cas with that required telling Dean about his Jimmy Novak account?

Cas shoved Gabriel out the doors of the Roadhouse and followed. The doors had glass panels large enough for Dean to see what was going on, even if he couldn't hear a thing due to distance and background noise in the now-crowded restaurant. Gabriel and Cas were standing a few feet from each other, facing each other and clearly having some kind of an argument. Gabriel seemed to be trying to convince Cas of something; he kept gesturing towards the doors and trying to approach Cas, one arm outstretched as if to lay an encouraging hand on his shoulder. Cas kept on sidestepping him, his arms held stiffly at his sides. His responses to Gabriel's near-monologue were short and curt, as far as Dean could tell, and Gabriel seemed to be getting more and more frustrated.

Stephanie reappeared with his beer refill and Dean absently nodded his thanks to her even as he unconsciously shifted to keep the brothers in view.

Gabriel finally threw up his hands in exasperation. Cas asked him a question, to which he shook his head, and then Gabriel stepped in, gave Castiel a lingering hug, and then he walked away.   
Cas had tensed, apparently not expecting the embrace, but had stood outside for a second or two and watched his brother leave. His shoulders then slumped and he turned and walked back into the Roadhouse.

Dean instantly looked away from the doors and lifted his beer to his mouth, hoping that Cas hadn't caught him watching.

Castiel slid into the seat across from Dean, mouth set in a hard line. Dean glanced around with exaggerated casualness.

"Where's Gabriel?" he asked. Castiel's eyes flicked to Dean for a moment before Cas grabbed his iced tea and took a short sip of it through his straw. Dean tried and failed to ignore the way his cheeks hollowed out, just a little.

"My brother will not be eating with us," Cas said, releasing the straw. "I apologize for bringing him. I didn't realize that he would be so persistent."

"Hey, man, no harm done," Dean said easily, making a sweeping motion with his hands as if to knock that portion of the evening off of the table. Cas's lips quirked up in a small, grateful smile. Dean grinned back, already feeling more relaxed now that the damn shorty with too-keen eyes had left the building.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dinner had gone well, but the game had gone horribly. The Wasps had ended up losing to the Harpies twenty-one to ten, though Dean had had fun complaining about the ref and the Wasps' new quarterback. The man had gotten sacked three times in a row in the third quarter and had been intercepted twice. Cas had nodded along with Dean and occasionally voiced a cautious opinion, though he seemed content to let Dean do most of the talking.

They'd had Gabriel's food boxed up and Cas had poured his brother's drink into two child-sized to-go cups that Ellen had found in the back.

All in all, it had been a good night and though conversation had revolved mostly around the game while it was on, Dean and Cas had had plenty of chances to talk over dessert. Dean had tucked into his pie while Cas ate the sundae that Gabriel had originally ordered. Stephanie had been nice enough to belay bringing it out until after the meal, once she saw that the man who had ordered it had left. It was mostly small talk, just about their respective jobs and hobbies, but left a pleasantly warm sensation in Dean's chest. It was like a soft, furry animal had snuggled down in-between his lungs.

The trouble came when it was time to leave. Dean didn't flinch when it came time to split the check, even though he had almost managed to forget that this wasn't a date, but once the meals were paid for and Cas and Dean had walked out to the parking lot, they found that Gabriel had left them with another gift besides the bill. Or rather, he had taken something and left a big, gaping problem in its place.

The other people that had come out to the Roadhouse for the game had already left by the time Dean and Cas had finished dessert, so it was painfully obvious that there was no silver convertible in the lot. Cas looked around, dumbstruck and fumbling one-handed in his pockets for his keys. The other hand held the leftovers from dinner.

"Gabriel must have taken them when he hugged me," Cas said unhappily, taking his empty hand out of his pocket. "I thought it was strange..." He sighed and turned to Dean. "Do you know any reputable cab service in the area?"

"What, you can't just call Gabriel and have him come get you? He stranded you here and left you with the bill, you'd think it was the least he could do," Dean said indignantly. Even if Gabriel refused to show, there was no way Dean was going to leave Cas here to get a cab. The taxi service Ellen usually hired for drunks was good, but there was no need when Cas had a perfectly willing and able chauffeur already here.

"My brother and I... we argued, before he left. I have no doubt he'd encourage me to find another ride, if I call," Cas said, eyes briefly dropping to the ground.

Well, that settled it.

"Come on," Dean said, jerking his head in the direction of his beloved Impala. "I'll drive you."

Castiel's gaze jerked back up to Dean's face, eyes wide.

"No, I can't ask you to do that," Cas said. "I have enough money for a taxi and it's far out of your way."

"You didn't ask, Cas. I'm offering."

Castiel shifted in place. After a moment's hesitation, he nodded slowly.

"Then I accept. Thank you, Dean."

"Hey, what are friends for?" Dean asked plastering a smile onto his face. Friends, friend-zoned would-be lover, same thing, really. Dean thought that Castiel's expression might have clouded briefly at the use of the word 'friend', but it was gone in an instant and Dean chalked it up to wishful thinking.

They walked over to the Impala. Dean unlocked his own door first and then, after sitting down in the driver's seat, leaned over and unlocked the passenger-side door. Castiel got in and sat down gingerly, as if at any moment the car might vanish. He kept the bag with Gabriel's leftovers on his lap as he buckled his seatbelt, the motion somewhat awkward as he tried to keep the bag balanced. Dean started up the car and turned on the headlights, then carefully eased out of the parking space.

"So, Cas, where am I taking you to?" Dean asked, taking one hand off of the wheel to fiddle with the radio as he drove out of the parking lot.

"Heaven," Castiel answered as the beginning strains of a Led Zepplin song began to fill the car. Dean nearly choked, because that sounded way too much like a lame pickup line that had worked for him a time or three before. The noise he made must have sounded inquisitive, because Castiel cleared his throat and continued. "Heaven Lane, in Rockport."

"Oh," Dean said. It was quite a while out of his way, maybe a forty-minute round trip. Castiel gave him an apologetic look.

"I told you it was out of your way," he said. "We haven't gone far from the Roadhouse. If you would drop me off back there-"

"Cas, it's fine," Dean said, giving Cas a quick smile. "It is a bit far, yeah, but it's fine. I don't mind." He really didn't. A thought crossed his mind, a little voice reminding him that he'd never driven so far after a date when he knew the night wouldn't end in bed, but he shoved it aside.

"Thank you again, Dean," Cas said, settling more into his seat. He frowned slightly at the radio. Dean kept one eye on the nearly deserted road and the other on Cas's expression.

"What is it?" he asked after a few beats of nothing but music.

"What is this song?" Castiel asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"You don't like it?" Dean asked. If it had been Sammy in the front seat, he would have reminded him that driver picks the music and shotgun shuts his cakehole, but this was Cas.

"I am unfamiliar with it," Castiel explained. "I don't dislike it." His expression cleared, leaving only careful consideration. "I would like to hear more."

"Dude, you've never heard 'Stairway to Heaven'?" Dean asked incredulously. "Everyone's heard it. It's a classic!"

"The name sounds familiar, but the song itself-"

Dean waved a hand dismissively.

"We'll just have to add music appreciation to our lesson plan," Dean said, only half-teasing. Cas smiled faintly at him and Dean felt a little flare of something warm in his chest. He'd been experiencing a lot of those little flare-ups lately. Maybe he should see a doctor.

"That sounds good," Castiel said. "I'd like to hear more of your music, Dean."

Make that 'definitely need to see a doctor'.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Turn here," Castiel said. Dean turned the Impala onto the driveway of an average-sized, white house with an attached garage. The garage door was closed, no doubt hiding the silver convertible from view. The front lawn, from what Dean could see in the gloom, was well-taken care of. Dean had suspected that either Cas or his brother had money upon seeing what car Cas drove, but this was pretty much a confirmation. There was a light on inside, but the house seemed to be asleep overall. The light had likely been left on as a courtesy for Castiel, so he wouldn't need to fumble around in the dark after returning home.

"Nice place," Dean commented, glancing over at Cas. Castiel nodded, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"It is home," he replied. He unlocked the car door and then hesitated. Cas turned to face Dean, an uncertain look on his face. "Would you like to come in for a drink?"

If this had been a date, Dean would have smirked and followed Castiel into his house, where they'd bypass the kitchen entirely and head straight for the bedroom. Unfortunately, in this case the offer of a drink really was an offer for a drink, and not a veiled request for Dean to strip Cas naked and pound him through the mattress.

Dean cleared his throat, ignoring the sudden throb of _want_ in his veins.

"No, I should probably get going," he said. "Thanks, though." He wanted Cas too much to risk staying. He'd give himself away.

"Another time, then," Castiel said. He hesitated again. "I enjoyed myself tonight."

"I did, too," Dean said, smiling. "I'll call you tomorrow and we'll pick a day and time to meet again?"

Castiel finally smiled back, a barely-there upturn of his lips.

"Tomorrow, then," Cas said, opening up the door. "Goodnight, Dean. Drive safely."

"Night, Cas," Dean replied. He watched as Cas got out of the car and shut the door before heading towards the house. Dean waited until Cas was safely inside before backing out of the driveway and heading home, a smile on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean walked into his apartment and then shut locked the door behind himself.

"Sam?" he called out, loud enough to catch his brother's ear if he was awake, but not enough to wake him if he had already gone to bed. There was no response.

Dean headed further into the apartment, shucking his coat as he walked and carrying it with him. Sam was probably asleep, rather than out. He was never out this late on Sundays. Hopefully he had left his laptop on the table. Sam slept too lightly for Dean to sneak it out of his room.

Dean grinned triumphantly when he saw that Sam had indeed left his laptop out. It wasn't a particularly rare occurrence, but neither was it very common. Dean took a glance around the apartment, making certain that Sam was nowhere to be found. He then quietly lifted the laptop and headed to his room.

He shoved his bedroom door shut with his foot as soon as he cleared it. He dropped his coat on the floor and dug his car keys out of his pocket. He set them on his nightstand. Finally, he sat down on his bed, his back against the headboard, and placed the laptop on his lap.

It was the work of moments to get to Sam's desktop and open up the browser program. Dean quickly checked Castiel's LiveJournal account to see if it had been updated. He typed in the web address from memory, but saw nothing that hadn't been there the last time he had checked.

It was time to move on to the actual business he had with Sam's laptop tonight. Dean went to Google and searched for 'FictionPress' and 'Dmitri Krushnic', Castiel's penname. The first link seemed to be the right one, so he clicked it. as he waited for the page to load, he glanced towards his bedroom door. Unlikely as it was, if Sam woke up and went looking for his laptop, Dean would never live this down.

Damn if he wasn't as nervous as an underage kid sneaking porn.

The page finally loaded and scrolled down, ignoring the sparse biography at the top of the page and looking at the posted stories. There were only three.

Dean frowned and tried to keep scrolling, assuming the page simply hadn't scrolled enough to show the rest, but there seemed to be nothing more to see. Castiel only had three stories posted to this account. Dean had five tapes worth of his work in the box underneath his bed and he hadn't even downloaded any of the tame stories. He knew Cas had more than this.

He narrowed his eyes and read the summaries. It took less than two minutes and then he blinked and reread them. Something seemed off.

Dean had gotten used to Castiel's Jimmy Novak account where, even if the story wasn't pornographic, every story focused on a gay couple, or a lesbian couple, or something else with an obvious rainbow bent. Even though Dean hadn't read every story, he had read all of the summaries. Every story in the Dmitri Krushnic account was about a heterosexual pair. Two seemed to be chick lit, the kind of stories that girlfriends would drag their reluctant boyfriends to go see if they were movies. The third was about a boy dying of cancer while pining for some girl he had known in high school.

No wonder Cas had so easily admitted to this account. Chick lit though it might be, it was still more acceptable for a guy to be writing that than anything with non-straight main characters. Jimmy Novak had written a small rant two weeks ago about how it was more socially accepted to write formulaic, romantic crap starring a busty beauty and a musclebound he-man than an emotional, original tale starring a gay couple. Dean may or may not have read it. Maybe.

It had been two pages long and actually kind of interesting.

Dean turned his thoughts back to the stories in front of him. Chick lit wasn't his thing when he did read, as he tended towards Vonnegut when he did pick up a book. Still, he had promised Cas that he'd check his stories out.

He could break the promise, explain to Cas that romance novels were not his thing, but the memory of Castiel's surprised and grateful expression when Dean had sworn to read his work surfaced in his mind. There went that idea.

With a sigh and one last glance to his door, Dean clicked on the title of the first story. This would be ten times more embarrassing if Sammy caught him at it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sam was gone when Dean woke up the next morning. A quick check of the schedule posted on the fridge confirmed that the younger Winchester had one class in the morning and one in the afternoon. He'd be gone all day.

Dean fixed himself breakfast, though a glance at the clock told him that the meal should be more properly called 'lunch'. He had the afternoon shift at Bobby's garage, so he didn't have a lot of time, but he had enough to make a quick phone call if he did it now. He could shower after breakfast.

Cas picked up after two rings.

"Hello?" he said.

"Hey, Cas. It's me," Dean said. He grinned and leaned back on his chair, pushing his scrambled eggs around on his plate.

"Dean." Castiel sounded pleased to hear from him, which sent an answering thrill of happiness through Dean. "It is good to hear from you."

"I said I'd call," Dean reminded him. "I wanted to know when you'd be free. I'd like to hang out again." He took a bite of his eggs. Maybe he was meeting up with Cas a bit more than was usual for friends, but hopefully Cas wouldn't realize that. If Cas didn't have many friends, it was perfectly possible that he didn't.

"I believe I'm free Wednesday evening, if that would work for you," Cas said carefully. Dean's grin widened, albeit ruefully. Castiel wanted to see him again, and soon. It would be a great sign if they were dating, but Cas didn't want Dean the way Dean wanted him.

You take what you can get, Winchester, Dean reminded himself firmly. He thought back over his schedule and winced.

"Wednesday is no good for me," he said. He was working a double that day. "Thursday'd work, though," he added quickly.

"I'm busy with the shop on Thursday," Cas said.

"How about Friday?" Dean asked. He didn't want to wait until the weekend, but if that was the only option, he'd deal.

"I'm free Friday evening," Cas replied. He sounded pleased at having finally set a date to meet.

"Awesome. Want to do dinner at the Roadhouse again?" Dean asked. He took another bite of his eggs, grimacing a bit when he realized how quickly they were cooling off. On the other end of the line, Castiel was quiet for a moment.

"There is a small restaurant near my house that you might enjoy. Could we perhaps eat there instead? I know it's a bit of a drive..." he said.

"Cas, it's fine. What's this restaurant of yours called?" Dean asked.

"It's Angelo's," Castiel replied. Dean was about to say that he knew that the restaurant didn't belong to Cas, he didn't need to be told who the actual owner was, when Cas continued. "The address is 22 Northumberland Street."

"I'll be able to find it," Dean said, making a mental note of the address. "Five o'clock work for you?"

"Yes," Cas said. There was a brief lull in the conversation when Castiel didn't continue. Dean cleared his throat and so missed the sound of the apartment door opening.

"I read one of your stories last night," Dean blurted out.

"You did?" Cas asked, surprised. "You didn't... I mean, I didn't expect you to read anything so soon."

"I wanted to," Dean said. It was true enough. He'd wanted to be able to talk to Cas about his work, maybe make him happy. Chick lit was not and would never be his thing, but the story had been enjoyable enough despite that.

"Which one did you read?" Cas asked.

"The one about the chick talking to her fiancée," Dean told him. "You're good, Cas. I don't usually like chick lit, but the story was good. I didn't get this one thing, though-"

Dean spotted motion out of the corner of his eye and turned towards it, voice dropping off abruptly when he saw Sammy. Sam was standing by the door, messenger bag slung over one shoulder and laptop tucked under the other arm. One eyebrow was raised incredulously.

"Dean? Cas asked. "What is it?"

"Look, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later. See you on Friday," Dean said quickly, keeping his gaze on Sam. Sam raised his other eyebrow in response.

"All right. See you on Friday," Cas said. He hung up and Dean followed suit.

"Who was that?" Sam asked the second the older Winchester lowered the phone. Dean scowled.

"Aren't you supposed to be in class?" he demanded, shoveling more eggs into his mouth and washing them down with gulps of orange juice. The flavors mixed unpleasantly in his mouth, but he needed to finish this quickly.

"The professor cancelled. Some kind of conference or something," Sam said dismissively. "Come on, Dean, who is she?"

"'She'?" Dean repeated dumbly. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Don't play stupid. Cas. I'm asking, 'who is Cas'?" he said, voice hinging between patient and exasperated.

"Cas isn't-" Dean started to say, but Sammy wasn't done.

"I haven't seen you this secretive about someone since you started dating Cassie," Sam said. "I'm happy for you, I really am, even if I am a bit miffed that you didn't tell me."

"Dude, Sam, Cas and I - we're not dating," Dean sputtered. "And what do you mean, 'secretive'?"

"I heard some of your conversation when I came in," Sam said by way of explanation. "Since when do you read? Something that's not Vonnegut."

Dean shut his mouth.

"I've never heard you mention Cas, but you're close enough that she can get you to read a romance novel? One she wrote? Come on. When do I get to meet her?" Sam asked.

"Wasn't a novel," Dean muttered. He shoved the rest of his now-cold eggs into his mouth and gulped down the last bit of his orange juice.

"My point still stands," Sam said. Dean placed his empty glass on his plate and dropped his fork into it. He stood up and walked into the kitchen to put his dirty dishes into the sink. He could feel Sam following him.

"We're not dating, Sam. You know me," Dean said, not looking at him. He started washing the dishes. "I do one night stands, not relationships." He tried to shoot his brother a lecherous smirk, but something else must have shown on his face or in his voice. Sam's expression suddenly morphed from curious and slightly irritated to curious and sympathetic.

"Dean..." Sam said slowly. "Do you-"

Dean practically slammed his now clean dishes onto the counter to dry and made a beeline for the bathroom.

"Gotta leave for work soon, haven't showered yet," he said deliberately ignoring whatever Sam had been about to say.

"Dean," Sam tried again, but the older Winchester had slammed the door shut.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean walked into the bar with a carefully calculated hint of swagger in his step. Sam may have rolled his eyes at Dean's 'methods' before, but chicks dug a guy with confidence.

No matter what, tonight Dean was going to get laid. It was Thursday night and tomorrow would mark the third time he would meet with Cas one on one. He'd jerked off twice to the sound of Castiel's voice and once while showering to fantasies of big blue eyes and pale skin. And that was just since Sunday.

This had to stop before Cas picked up on it or Dean did something stupid, like proposition Castiel after one too many drinks. If he was still this sexually frustrated tomorrow, he might do just that.

He walked up to the bar and sat down. He gave the room a subtle once-over as he waited for the bartender. The pickings were pretty slim, this being a weekday instead of a weekend, but there were a few women that looked to be Dean's type. Pretty, easy, and interested.

Dean gave a busty brunette down at the end of the bar a smirk. She smiled coyly in return and leaned forward, her low-cut top showing off more than a hint of cleavage. Possibility number one.

Dean glanced over to another table, where a cute blonde in a short skirt was sitting. She took a sip of her drink and then licked her lips slowly, keeping eye contact with Dean the whole time. Possibility number two.

Possibility number three was a quiet redhead sipping a daiquiri in a booth in the corner of the bar. She didn't seem to notice Dean at all and was dressed pretty conservatively, in a leather jacket and jeans, meaning she was probably neither easy nor interested, but sometimes Dean liked a challenge. There was something about her that, while it didn't drive the other women in the bar from his mind completely, it drew him towards her. Dean couldn't put his finger on it.

The bartender walked up and gruffly asked what he wanted. Dean ordinarily would have smirked as he ordered his beer, to better display the confidence a potential partner might find attractive, but the redhead in the corner was holding his attention. He absently placed his order, only vaguely noting the bartender walking off after having received it.

The redhead looked up and her eyes met Dean's. She had a strange kind of look, innocent and somehow lost, and for a second Dean was so strongly reminded of Castiel that he forgot to breathe. That was it. Something about her was just like Cas and just like that, Dean's decision was made.

The bartender put his drink down and Dean tore his eyes away from the girl for a moment to take his beer and pay the man. When he looked back, the girl was no longer alone. A man at least a decade older than the redhead had sat down next to her. The girl was visibly uncomfortable, edging away slowly and backing herself into a corner. The man was boxing her in, cutting off her only escape route with his body.

Dean was over there almost before he realized that he was moving.

"-come on, I can show you a real good time," the man was saying, voice viscous and oily. His hand was high on the girl's thigh and moving higher and more inward even as she tried to move it off of her leg.

"No, I already told you I-" she said, voice shaking ever so slightly. Dean had heard enough.

"This guy isn't bothering you, is he, sweetheart?" he asked, doing his best to loom over the table. The girl and the asshole with grabby hands both looked up at him, the guy visibly annoyed and the girl cautiously hopeful. The man had taken his hands off of the redhead at the sound of Dean's voice, so that was one problem taken care of.

"Sorry I'm late, baby," Dean said to the redhead, hoping she'd play along. "Traffic was worse than I expected." He set his beer down on the table, giving the man a pointed look. The man scowled, but got up off the bench. Dean kept his eyes on him, staring him down.

"She didn't tell me she was with anybody," the man said suspiciously. Dean smirked coldly.

"Well, she is. Don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way out."

"I was just leaving," the man muttered, giving Dean a dark look as he shouldered passed him on the way to the exit. Dean returned the stare levelly until the door swung shut behind him.

"Good riddance," Dean muttered. If there was one thing Dean couldn't stand, it was douche bags like that. He turned back to the girl, who was watching him with an intent expression. It was like a watered down version of Castiel's usual stare and Dean ached.

He cleared his throat and indicated the recently vacated spot on the bench.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked.

"Please do," the girl said, voice light and musical. "Thank you for doing that."

"Not a problem, trust me," Dean said, sitting down next to her without attempting to crowd her. She smiled at him and he grinned back. "I'm Dean."

"Anna," she said. She took a sip of her daiquiri. It was nearly empty.

"Pleased to meet you, Anna," he said. He glanced towards the door. "Not all guys are like that. Some of us know how to treat a lady."

"Oh?" she asked, interested. "And how do you treat a lady?" That was definitely flirtatious. Dean grinned, turning on the charm full force.

"Well, for starters, how about I buy you a drink to apologize for not getting here ten minutes ago?"

"I'd like that," Anna said, smiling.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Friday didn't come nearly as quickly as Dean would have liked, but at long last it arrived. Dean groaned as he stumbled into the bathroom, lightly hung over and a little frustrated.

Anna had been good company and they'd talked for almost two hours before she had followed Dean to the backseat of the Impala. That was something of a record for Dean, who usually spent a half hour, or an hour maximum if the girl was especially pretty and playing hard to get, before taking them to his car.

Anna had been good, if still a bit inexperienced and uncertain, and Dean had made certain that she enjoyed the encounter. That he had thought about Cas as he touched her, moved inside of her, and came was his problem, not hers. He felt a stab of guilt at that, since he hadn't set out with the intention of finding a substitute. In the end, that's what Anna had been and she had deserved better than that from Dean, if only for that one night.

He splashed some water on his face and looked at himself in the mirror. There were small marks on his body that Anna had left the night before and each one seemed almost accusatory. She had been real, she had been there, and Dean's thoughts had been miles away.

He had to get over this stupid... thing. Soon.

But not today. He was meeting Cas in a few hours and he could hardly show up smelling like booze and sex.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean parked the Impala at the curb in front of the restaurant. He'd missed it the first time he had passed, since the place was tiny. It was maybe a third the size of the Roadhouse. The name was written in elaborate white script over the door, but otherwise was unmarked.

Dean got out of the car, locked it up, and headed into the restaurant. A bell chimed overhead as he walked in, drawing the host's attention.

"Welcome to Angelo's," he said with a slight Italian accent. His nametag read 'Billy'. "Table for... one? Or two?"

"Two. I'm expecting someone," Dean said, glancing around the room. There weren't many tables and a few were occupied by couples, most holding hands across the tiny tabletops. There were lit candles in the center of every table and the lighting was low, giving the place a cozy, intimate feel. Dean shifted uneasily.

It seemed like a place that Dean might bring one of his classier one-night stands, if they were the type that needed to be wined and dined before putting out. He usually just went for the type that wanted a shot of tequila and a come-hither look.

Not that this was a date, despite the atmosphere, Dean reminded himself.

"Right this way, please."

Dean tore himself from his thoughts and followed Billy to a small table nestled in a corner of the room. The candle in the centerpiece flickered gently, as if mocking him. Dean hid his frown as he sat in a chair and scooted forward. The host set a menu down in front of him.

"Thanks," Dean said. Billy nodded politely.

"I'll be right back for your drink order," he said. He walked off, headed for another table that was calling for service.

"Friendly," Dean muttered, flipping open the menu. The bell chimed again and Dean looked up, grinning when he saw Castiel walking through the door. Castiel must have spotted him as well because he waved Billy off and headed directly for the table Dean was seated at.

"Hello, Dean," Cas said, shrugging off his overcoat and draping it over the back of the chair before sitting down.

"Good to see you, Cas," Dean replied. "Great timing, by the way. I just got here."

Castiel nodded. Billy reappeared by the table, holding a second menu, which he handed to Cas. Cas nodded his thanks and opened it up.

"I'll be your waiter tonight," Billy said. "My name is Billy. Would you like to see our wine list?" He looked at Dean, who stole a quick glance at Castiel. Cas seemed to be absorbed in his menu, reading over the dinner choices carefully. Dean shook his head.

"No thanks," he replied. This wasn't a date. Wine wasn't a drink for a casual dinner with a friend. Not unless you were super classy, anyway, which Dean was definitely not.

"Can I get you something to drink, then?" Billy asked.

"Could I get a beer?" Dean replied. Billy nodded and turned to Castiel.

"Do you need a minute?" he said.

"Iced tea, please," Cas answered, looking up from his menu. Billy nodded again.

"I'll be right back with those," he said. He walked off, heading for another table where one of the occupants was raising his hand for the check.

Dean went back to flipping the pages of his menu. Castiel folded his menu neatly and set it on the table. The far edge of the menu was almost touching Dean's hand, the table was so small, and Dean was again struck by how intimate the whole setup was. The candlelight cast shadows across Castiel's face and was reflected in his eyes, making the blue brighter. It was oddly mesmerizing.

"How's the lasagna here?" Dean asked in an attempt to distract himself. Castiel's eyes briefly met Dean's before dropping back down to the table.

"I have not actually eaten here before," he admitted. "My brother recommended it to me when he heard that I was planning on meeting you again."

"That-" Fucker, Dean didn't say. Even when he wasn't here, he managed to taunt Dean and make Cas miserable. Dean forced himself to smile. "That's nice. This place is good. Cozy."

Castiel nodded in agreement but then shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Dean so owed Gabriel a punch in the face the next time he saw the man. Dean searched for something to say, hoping to lessen Cas's discomfort by distracting him.

"Your story was good," he blurted out. Castiel looked up, startled.

"I know. You said as much over the phone," he replied. He gave Dean a small smile. Dean relaxed. "You didn't have to read it."

"Hey, I said I would," Dean replied. Castiel's smile faded, replaced by a more serious expression.

"You said that there was something you didn't understand," he said slowly. "May I ask what that was?"

Dean frowned thoughtfully and began to form a reply, but just then Billy returned to the table with their drinks.

"Ready to order?" he asked them, setting a beer down in front of Dean and an iced tea in front of Cas. Dean gave him a short, tight smile.

"Yeah. I'll take the lasagna," he said. Billy nodded and made a small note on the notepad he had been carrying in his apron pocket. He turned to Castiel.

"And for you?"

"The pennae alfredo, please," Cas said, picking up his menu and holding it out. Billy noted the order quickly and collected the menus. Just like that, he was gone again.

Dean took a sip of his beer and looked around the room again, eyes lingering on the couples. He felt a brief stab of envy, wishing he could reach across the table and take Cas's hand in his own or lean over the table and have Cas meet him halfway, mouth to mouth.

"You do not need to answer if you don't wish to," Cas said, jerking Dean from his fantasy. "I just wanted to know."

It took Dean a minute to remember what they had been talking about before Billy had shown up.

"Just needed to find the words," he assured Cas. He scratched the back of his neck. "I guess I just thought it didn't make a lot of sense."

"What didn't?" Cas asked, sounding genuinely confused.

"Her big 'relationship-destroying' secret," Dean said. He took a sip of his beer. "So what if she wasn't a virgin? It's not that big of a deal."

"She had not been married before-" Cas started to say. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Dude, she was twenty-nine. No one's still a virgin by choice at twenty-nine," Dean said. "Her fiancée shouldn't have been that surprised. That by itself I guess I could buy, but that he cared so much about her being 'pure' when he married her to nearly call the whole thing off? And she just accepted it." Dean shook his head. Castiel had tensed visibly at some point, though Dean had no idea what had triggered the sudden stiffness to the set of his shoulders.

"Her fiancée was very devout and so were his parents. I didn't think it was that unlikely, even though he did overreact. But even so, would you not want to be the first man to touch your wife intimately?" Cas said.

Dean felt a shiver move through his body as Cas spoke, mind conjuring up images of stripping a white tuxedo off of Cas's body and touching him in ways no one had before. If he'd been the first to touch Cas, the first to see him sated and lethargic in the aftermath, the first to hear how he moaned and gasped and begged for it, Dean had to admit that he would be pretty damn happy.

He carefully didn't ask himself why he pictured Cas in a white tux. Or why, in his fantasy, he was dressed in a black tux despite hating all forms of formal wear.

Dean would have loved to be Cas's first, but he knew that he couldn't be. Not just because Cas seemed to have no interest in him, but because of how much Castiel seemed to know about sex. Castiel had to be experienced. Granted, his experience had probably all been with women, given that he was apparently a Church-going, God-fearing man, but Dean had been with a few women that hadn't been shy about slicking up their fingers and caressing his prostate while they blew him. It didn't take a genius to figure out that something even larger would probably feel even better. Chicks were just as capable as guys at taking it up the ass and hell, some were more eager. Any heterosexual guy that had those two experiences could probably write gay porn.

Why Cas wrote and recorded gay porn, Dean had no idea. He wouldn't be surprised if he was being paid to do it. With a voice like that, people would probably pay him to recite the ABC's. He vaguely recalled Cas saying that writing was his hobby, that he wasn't paid, but he might have just been talking about the stories he had posted on FictionPress. As far as Cas knew, Dean had no idea that the LiveJournal account existed.

Dean wondered if any of Castiel's lovers (or perhaps even 'lover', singular, and the thought gave his stomach an unpleasant, envious twist) had appreciated Castiel's voice like he did. He could picture Cas in bed with a group of faceless women, all doing the dirtiest things to him and teaching him what they could with their bodies so he'd be able to write as Jimmy Novak. Or maybe it really was just one woman, a really adventurous girl. Cas seemed the type to look for a long-term relationship before taking someone to bed. In real life, he probably even called it 'making love'.

The thought sent stabs of possessive longing and envy through him. He tried to squash the feelings down, knowing he had no claim and that it was pointless to wish for impossible things.

"If I ever liked someone enough to marry them, I wouldn't care," Dean said finally.

"You wouldn't prefer your bride to be a virgin?" Cas asked. "If you had a choice?"

"Honestly?" Dean replied. "No. I'd prefer someone who knew what they were doing."

"Oh." Castiel seemed rather taken aback. "What if they did-" He stopped himself and looked down.

"Did what?" Dean prompted him. Cas chuckled hollowly and Dean frowned.

"It is not of import," Cas said, shaking his head. He lifted his gaze. "May I ask why you'd prefer an experienced woman?"

Dean shifted in place and took another drink.

"Getting a little personal there," he said, feeling like he really should be more uncomfortable with the question. Castiel looked apologetic.

"You don't need to answer, but if I could understand why, I might be able to make the story more believable," he said. Dean shrugged.

"I'll see if I can explain, then," he said. He took a long gulp of his beer. Cas waited, watching Dean with that intent expression of his. "Look, you never forget the first person you have sex with. It just doesn't happen. The first person is important, don't get me wrong, but they're not the most important. That 'first, last, only' bullshit only happens in fairytales."

Dean took another sip of his beer before continuing, briefly dropping his eyes to the table to avoid Castiel's gaze.

"The most important lover is your last one, not the first one. The first never lasts, but the last one is the one you're supposed to be loyal to. The last is the one you marry, if you're the type that does that." If John Winchester had taught Dean one good thing, it was that marriage was a big deal. Dean had no compunctions about sleeping around, but he had never been 'the other man'. Dean knew that his idea of marriage was a bit idealized, given that his only examples were his parents and Ellen and Bobby. It was precisely why he usually ran in the other direction if he got a hint that a person he was interested in was the kind that was looking for a ring rather than something without strings.

Castiel looked thoughtful and a touch surprised.

"I never thought of it that way," he said. "The Church stresses marriage before sex and that adultery and premarital sex are sins. Divorce is frowned upon, so the person one marries is supposed to be your first, last, and only lover. I don't agree with everything the Church preaches, but I thought that the concept of saving oneself for one's spouse was... romantic."

"But only for girls, huh," Dean muttered, frowning. Cas hadn't been 'saving himself' for his future bride, whoever the lucky bitch would be. Maybe his conversion to the Church was recent and he'd been celibate since discovering the concept? Would be a bit too late, but maybe he'd been re-virginized or something.

"What?" Castiel asked, leaning forward. Dean waved a hand dismissively.

"Nothing. What do you disagree with the Church about, anyway?" he asked. Cas's eyes widened with what looked like alarm, but just then Billy arrived with their food and saved Castiel from having to reply.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean yanked the door open to his apartment and headed towards his room, irritated and confused.

Dinner had been going well. The food had been good, the company great, and the atmosphere relaxing. At least, Dean had thought so. Cas had been relaxed and smiling and so had Dean. They had been in the process of making plans for a movie marathon at Castiel's house, since he had never seen the Indiana Jones movies and that was a tragedy, when Cas had suddenly clammed up.

Cas had had a bit of alfredo sauce at the corner of his mouth. Dean had naturally been transfixed, fantasizing about leaning over the table and licking it off, then licking his way into Castiel's mouth to chase the taste.

Cas had done the job for him, his tongue darting out and clearing away the sauce. The urge to kiss him rose tenfold at the sight of his tongue. Dean had leaned back in his chair and looked away to try and stop himself from doing something stupid. The date-like atmosphere in this place was doing things to his head.

He'd tugged at the collar of his shirt, body too warm. When he had looked back up, Castiel's eyes were focused on his neck and his expression was closed off.

Cas had backpedaled and gave Dean some bullshit excuse about having just remembered that he'd promised to watch the movies with Gabriel. He had apologetically refused all other potential marathons. Then, to top it all off, he had said that he couldn't stay for dessert and had to leave.

Dessert wasn't exactly a given, but it was Dean's favorite part of their not-dates. Not only did he get pie, but by then the small talk was over and they had a proper conversation going.

Goddamnit, he was turning into a chick.

He tore off his jacket and tossed it aside the second he entered his room. He tried to toe off his boots and though one came off easily, the other remained stubbornly stuck. With a muttered curse, Dean sat down on his bed and began yanking at the lace.

"Dean?"

Dean tensed but did not look up. He kept picking at his shoelace, but more slowly.

"What do you want, Sam?" he said.

"Is anything, er... wrong?" Sam asked hesitantly. Dean snorted a laugh, unable to help himself.

"No, everything's just fucking peachy." He finally got his boot loose and pulled it off before tossing it in the general direction of its mate. He still refused to look at Sam, not certain what would be reflected in his face if he did.

There was a soft rustle of cloth and the sound of feet shuffling across carpet. When Sam spoke next, his voice sounded closer.

"Did your date not go well?" Sam actually sounded concerned, damnit.

"Don't you have a project or something you should be doing?" Dean asked, finally lifting his head to glare at his younger brother. Sam was standing maybe two steps inside the door, watching Dean. "And for the last time, we're not dating."

"So it didn't go well, Sam said sympathetically. "Do you want to talk abou-" Dean stared at him incredulously. Sam snapped his mouth shut and shifted in place. "Okay, that was a stupid question."

"And you're supposed to be the smart one, college boy," Dean muttered, voice only just loud enough for Sam to hear. Sam leveled one of his bitchfaces at Dean, but then took a deep breath and forcibly cleared his expression.

"So, what did you do to get banished to the couch tonight?" Sam asked. Dean scowled.

"Do you always just assume that I've screwed up, or...?" he asked snidely. Sam shrugged.

"Well, you were with Cas most of last night, right? You were covered in hickies this morning. You must have done something to piss her off, since I know you had a date with her tonight, but she's not here and you are, so..." Sam shrugged again. Dean frowned, confused.

"I wasn't with Cas last night," he said. Sam stilled.

"What?"

"I wasn't with Cas," Dean repeated. "I went out to a bar."

Sam slapped a hand over his face.

"So the hickies..." he said. His voice trailed off. Dean put a hand to his neck, to one of the small marks that Anna had left. He hadn't thought much about them that morning and hadn't thought too much about keeping them covered during dinner.

"What about them?" he asked defensively. Sam shook his head and turned towards the door, muttering about clueless older brothers and the poor girls who dated them.

"Cas and I are not dating," Dean insisted testily. Sam looked at him, bitchface out in full force. Dean shifted back a little, eyes widening in surprise.

"Good," Sam snapped. "And I never thought I'd say it, but it's good that you aren't dating her. I never thought you were disloyal, Dean."

Dean resisted the urge to flinch, but it felt like he'd been slapped. Sam took a deep breath and his expression softened, now merely disappointed instead of angry. Dean would rather have the anger. That he could handle and respond to in kind.

"I know you like her, Dean," Sam said gently. "I don't know what you were trying to prove with this-" He gestured vaguely in the direction of Dean's neck. "-but you're not going to be happy with meaningless relationships forever. This thing with you and Cas could mean something, if you pull your head out of your ass and stop running away."

"Nobody asked you," Dean said. "And meaningless relationships are the best kind. Worked just fine for me so far." Dean could hear the uncertainty in his own voice where before he had been convinced. He winced inwardly, knowing that Sam couldn't have missed it.

"That's a bunch of bull and you know it." Sam gave him a pointed look. "Apologize to her. She'll forgive you."

"What the hell makes you so sure?" Dean demanded. He added quickly, "And we're still not dating."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"I know, but you should be. You like her and she obviously likes you, or else she wouldn't have put up with you this long."

"Hey," Dean said, equal parts relief and mock-anger. That last comment had been teasing rather than in earnest. Sam smiled.

"You should ask her out on a real date," he said. Dean shook his head.

"Cas isn't interested in me like that, Sammy," he said firmly. Sam raised his eyebrows.

"If you say so," he replied, not even trying to mask his doubt. "But can I ask if you happened to pull down your shirt collar before she kicked you out?"

"You can ask," Dean said gruffly. He had tugged on his shirt collar, just a bit. Maybe Cas had seen the mark. Maybe it had been what caused him to go home early, but it couldn't be for the reason Sam thought. "Maybe I did. So what?"

"So," Sam said, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "That's probably why Cas was angry. You've been going on dates with her, whether or not you realized what you were doing, and then you show up with a hickey on your neck. She was jealous."

"That's not it, Sam," Dean said. How he wished it was, though. He sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing a hand over his face. "Look, I know you want to believe that I'm finally settling down, but Cas just isn't interested." He could try to argue that he wasn't interested, either, but Sam would definitely call him out on the lie.

"What makes you so sure?" Sam asked, more challenging than curious.

"I just am, all right?" Dean couldn't explain that Cas probably wasn't interested in guys, since Cas was a man and more than likely straight. He wasn't ready to tell Sam, not yet.

Silence fell in the room. After a minute, Sam sighed and shook his head.

"Fine," he said. "Just... keep an open mind?"

"You got it," Dean said blandly. Sam sighed again and left. Dean watched him turn down the hallway and heard the door to Sam's room shut quietly a few seconds later. He flopped backwards on his bed and folded his hands behind his head, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

Sam couldn't be right. Cas couldn't be jealous. He was probably just irritated with such an obvious sign of Dean's manwhore ways, being devoutly religious, 'first, last, only', and all.

But, a little part of him couldn't help thinking, what if Sam was right?

His phone rang and derailed that train of thought. Dean grumbled as he lifted his hips from the bed and dug in his pocket for his phone. He hit 'talk' and lifted it to his ear.

"Hello?" he said shortly.

"Hello, Dean." It was Cas. Dean's temper immediately cooled off and he sat up.

"Hi, Cas," he said. "What's up?" He could almost feel the hesitation on the other end of the line. He wiped his free hand on his pant leg, suddenly nervous.

"I wanted to apologize for cutting our meeting short earlier," Cas said. "I had... urgent business."

Dean resisted the urge to call him on his bullshit.

"Not a problem, Cas. Don't worry about it," he said.

"I'd like to treat you to dinner to apologize," Cas said. "I'm free next week at the same time, if that would work for you."

Dean chuckled, something inside his chest relaxing.

"Dude, I'm not a chick. You don't need to buy me dinner to make it up to me," he said.

"I am very aware that you are not a woman, Dean," Cas said, voice low and oddly intense. Dean's breath hitched in response, a hot flash of arousal shooting straight to his groin. Damnit, that was not fair. His body had been trained to respond to that voice and didn't care if an erection was totally inappropriate right now.

Castiel cleared his throat and when he next spoke, his voice was normal again.

"Even so, I'd like to treat you. You have been a good friend to me."

"Okay," Dean said, feeling a brief stab of guilt. He hadn't been a good friend to Cas, not really. A good friend wouldn't jerk off to fantasies of Cas while in the shower, nor would a good friend continue listening to the pornographic cassette tapes made from recordings of Cas’s voice, all unbeknownst to Castiel. Even so, Dean couldn't refuse. He was pretty certain that he had that Friday free. Even if he didn't, Bobby would let him take the day off since Dean never took sick time unless Sam forced him to. "I'll see you on Friday. Roadhouse sound good?"

"Yes. I will see you then, Dean," Cas said.

"See you then," Dean parroted back. Cas hung up. Dean hit 'end' and sucked in a deep breath. He let it out slowly and muttered a curse, then rolled awkwardly off of the bed to dig beneath it for his Castiel cassette tape collection.

He'd get over this fixation another day.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was Thursday night. Dean stared blankly at the TV. He was leaning back on the couch and had a beer in one hand. He looked, for all intents and purposes, settled in for the night, but his ears were alert to the sounds of Sammy getting ready to go out rather than the noise emanating from the idiot box. Dean had been feigning interest in the TV for fifteen minutes before Sam was finally done.

"I'm heading out," Sam called, tugging on his jacket as he walked towards the door. Dean gave him an absent nod. He waited until he heard the door to the apartment shut and then gave it five minutes before he was certain that Sam was gone. He got off of the couch, abandoning his beer, and then shut off the TV. He set the remote aside.

He hadn't been able to steal Sam's laptop in over a week. The younger Winchester had either been using it or had it with him every time Dean had planned to take it. Tonight, however, Sam was on a date and his laptop was left behind.

Dean headed to Sam's room and opened the door. He made a beeline across the clean floor to the organized desk, where the laptop rested between neat stacks of paper. With the computer and the charge cord securely in hand, Dean left and headed to his own room. He shut both Sam's door and his own behind himself as he passed through.

He set the laptop on his bed. Within five minutes, he had it powered on and the Internet loaded up. He typed in the URL for Castiel's LiveJournal and waited impatiently for the page to load. When it finally did, he grinned. There was a new entry. Even better, it was one of the dirty stories with an accompanying audio track. Dean hit the download link before even glancing at the summary. Once he was certain that the download had started up just fine, he went back to the entry and scrolled to see the description.

He froze, eyes going wide with shock as he reread it. He read it a third time, just to be sure. The words remained unchanged.

'Dean and Castiel have been friends for years, but Castiel has always wanted more. One drunken night, he gets his chance.'

This had to be a dream. Or something. Cas couldn't have actually written porn starring the two of them. Dean briefly wondered when he had fallen asleep and why he was dreaming about reading rather than the real deal. He thought about pinching himself, but the thought of Cas reading a sex scene featuring the two of them was too good to pass up.

The computer beeped an alert that the file was done downloading. Dean opened it immediately, grateful that Sammy was out and that he didn't need to mess about with finding headphones. He waited with eager anticipation as Castiel introduced himself to the listener as Jimmy Novak and stated the title of the story; 'One Drunken Night'.

The story opened up in the fictional Castiel's living room. The fictional Dean was well on his way to drunk whereas Cas was just slightly tipsy. Slightly tipsy, and staring. Any doubts Dean had about the character in the story being modeled after himself fled. Castiel could probably have given his description to a sketch artist and gotten a perfect likeness drawn up, though Dean doubted sketch artists often worked with flowery descriptions like 'plump lips the color of rose petals, made for passionate kisses'.

The descriptions weren't just bordering on sexual, either. Dean swallowed heavily, heart swelling with emotions he refused to name as Cas waxed poetic on his eyes, how he had never seen such a beautiful pair. Dean's eyes were deeper than most people's, Cas claimed in a soft voice, deeper and darker but breathtaking.

This was a definite chick flick moment, but Dean couldn't bring himself to care all that much. No one was here to see.

Fictional Dean was too drunk to drive, so Castiel helped him upstairs and into Castiel's bed. When Cas turned to go, Dean was holding him back.

The real Dean felt a brief stab of envy as his fictional counterpart pulled Casiel into a hungry kiss. Dean licked his lips, imagining that he could taste Cas on them as the kissing in the story intensified.

Dean laid back on the bed and ran a hand over the half-hard bulge in his jeans as story!Dean stripped both Castiel and then himself. Dean could hear a slightly breathless edge to Castiel's voice as he read out loud, an edge that Dean had never heard before no matter what Castiel had been reading. He groaned in time with Cas, his hips jerking up into the touch of his hand.

Story!Dean was on his knees between Castiel's legs now, pressing kisses to all available patches of skin before finally giving in to Castiel's pleas and closing his lips around the head of Cas's cock.

If Dean had thought that Cas's moans were hot on the tapes before, they were nothing compared to now. The sounds before had seemed scripted, after two or three listens, but these were raw, needy, and frequent. It was like listening to someone actually get blown, though Castiel's voice was still too steady when he read for that to be the case.

Dean opened up his jeans and shucked his underwear along with them. He was getting too close too quickly to leave them on any longer and it was just from hearing Castiel's voice. Any immunity Dean may have formed to protect himself from getting inappropriate erections while in Castiel's presence seemed to have evaporated at Cas's first hoarse cry.

Was this a fantasy of Castiel's? To take Dean home, get him drunk, and exchange mind-blowing blowjobs in Castiel's room? Story!Cas was now lying between Dean's legs, Dean's dick in his mouth and Dean's hands in his hair.

Dean licked his palm and stroked himself, wishing his hand was Castiel's mouth. He could imagine it clearly, even without the help of the tape, as this had always been one of his favorite fantasies. Cas's eyes would be lust-glazed but intent, lips slick and stretched wide as Castiel's tongue swirled around the head of Dean's cock.

Dean moaned, quickening the motion of his hand. He was already leaking precome and he'd only just begun.

"Cas," he groaned, in time with his fictional counterpart. He chuckled breathlessly at that, only to draw in a ragged breath as story!Dean pulled Castiel's mouth off of his dick and asked to fuck him. Story!Cas wanted it. He wanted it as badly as the real Dean did.

Dean held the base of his cock, not daring to stroke himself as he listened to story!Dean prepare Cas for penetration. Cas's voice on the tape was low and husky, little hitches in his breathing audible even when he wasn't trying to do sound effects for the sex scene. Dean shuddered, trembling with the effort of keeping his hips still. He wanted to thrust into something, even if that something was only his own loose fist. He wanted to lay kisses all over Castiel's face and whisper encouraging comments as he slid a second spit-slick finger into Cas's body. He wanted to press his mouth to Castiel's and swallow his brief cry of pain as he pushed inside and Castiel's body swallowed him.

Dean began stroking himself again, rhythm jerky and erratic as he listened to Castiel's voice describe their frantic coupling. Cas was obviously affected by what he was reading, voice speeding up with excitement and then slowing down as he remembered himself. Then, just before the characters climaxed, there was a slight skip to the audio track. It was just for a split second, almost unnoticeable, but afterwards Cas's voice was smoother, calmer, and measured.

Cas had needed to stop recording and then had come back to pick up where he left out, clumsily editing the two audio tracks together to make one story. Cas had been so affected by it that he'd needed to stop and probably had jerked off before continuing.

On the heels of that thought, Dean groaned loudly and came. He stroked himself frantically through the climax, Castiel's shout of his name ringing in his ears. Dean came down from his orgasm slowly. Come was cooling on his hand and his stomach, creating a sticky mess that he'd deal with later. He listened to the rest of the story, enjoying the pleasant lethargy that had taken over his body. He didn't think he had ever come so hard without someone else being there to witness it.

The final scene in the story was Cas watching Dean wake up. The pair talked, Castiel nervous as Dean realized what had happened the night before and then surprised as Dean kissed him. Castiel's voice on the recording was tight and heavy with what Dean thought might be longing. Story!Dean confessed that he'd wanted to be more than friends with Cas for some time. He wanted Cas to be his lover, not just his friend. They kissed again as the story ended.

Dean closed the media player, some of Castiel's longing echoing in his chest and hope beginning to bloom alongside it. Cas had no reason to suspect that Dean knew about his Jimmy Novak account. Dean had made no mention of it and had been careful not to hint at his knowledge of its existence. Cas had no reason to believe that Dean would ever stumble across this story. He couldn't have written this as some kind of a veiled message to Dean.

Did Cas want him? Had he written out and recorded one of his fantasies to post on the Internet?

Dean knew that it was silly to assume that everything in the story was true. For all he knew, none of it had any basis in reality. It was still fiction, after all, but even so. There had been no reason for Castiel to name the starring characters after himself and Dean. There was no reason for the characters to look and act exactly like them. If the names had been anything else, if they had looked differently or acted differently, Dean wouldn't have thought anything of it. However, since the characters were Dean and Castiel... it was hard not to think about what that might mean.

Dean shivered. If he had thought the wait for Friday night was annoying before, now it was just infuriating.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean drummed his fingers on the table, resisting the urge to check his watch. He'd ended up driving to the Roadhouse a half hour early, since Sam had been giving him increasingly worried looks and kept asking if he was feeling all right. Dean was perfectly fine. So maybe he had been pacing the apartment and had changed his shirt twice before he was satisfied. So maybe he had spent almost fifteen minutes on his hair rather than the usual five. It wasn't that weird.

He gave in to the urge and checked his watch. It was four forty-nine. Dean scowled and grabbed his beer, taking a long swig of it. He should probably slow down, since this was his second of the night already. He wanted to keep a mostly clear head, even if he wasn't sure he could do this entirely sober. Talking about anything resembling emotions was best done as drunk as possible, even if 'shitfaced' wasn't an option tonight.

He wanted Cas to know that he was choosing this, not just rolling with it because he was drunk and horny.

Dean glanced around the Roadhouse. The place wasn't very busy. Only about half of the tables were full and none of the people sitting at them were interesting enough to hold Dean's interest for long. His eyes kept returning to the door, hoping to see a familiar beige overcoat.

Five minutes later, his patience was finally rewarded.

Castiel walked in and looked around the room, obviously looking for Dean. Dean grinned and waved. His palms felt sweaty and his stomach fluttered. Maybe he shouldn't have had two beers on an empty stomach.

Cas spotted him and nodded in acknowledgement. Dean lowered his hand as Cas walked over.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel said as he sat down across from Dean at the table. He shimmied out of his coat and laid it on the bench next to him. He settled onto his chair, looking as relaxed and content as he ever did. There was no reason for him to be nervous at all, Dean reminded himself. As far as Cas was concerned, this was just another night. It was just dinner with a friend, and while Dean hoped that this wouldn't be the last time they did dinner, hopefully this would be the last night Dean was just a 'friend'.

"Hi, Cas," Dean replied. He coughed into his hand, hoping to clear the breathiness from his voice. Castiel frowned.

"Is something wrong?" he asked. Dean shook his head.

"No. Nothing's wrong," he said. He shifted in place, took a deep breath, and decided to just jump right in. If he didn't bring it up now, he might very well chicken out before the end of the night. "I read your new story."

"Which one?" Cas asked, frown deepening. "I haven't posted anything to FictionPress in months." 

Dean took another deep breath and let it out slowly to steel himself. No going back, for better or worse. Dean just hoped that this went as well as it had for story!Dean.

"Not on FictionPress," Dean said slowly. He met Castiel's eyes and held them. "The one you posted on Wednesday, on LiveJournal. 'One Drunken Night' ringing any bells?"

Cas's eyes widened and his face went white. It was very nearly the same puppy-dog-in-headlights expression that he had made when Dean had told him that Chastity was flirting with him. The sudden reminder of their first 'date' nearly made Dean laugh, but if he so much as chuckled, he'd end up laughing hysterically. He hadn't been this nervous since his first time with a man.

"What?" Cas asked weakly. Dean tried to smile reassuringly. It probably came out more like a grimace due to his uncertainty, but he didn't have a mirror to check.

"I've known about your Jimmy Novak account since... hell, since before I met you." Dean ran a hand over the back of his neck, eyes dropping from Castiel's to stare at the tabletop.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Castiel said, voice carefully bland. Dean did chuckle at that and he looked up. Cas's expression was mostly shut down, but his eyes were still shocked and nervous. Dean grinned. Cas was still a shitty liar.

"I recognized your voice in the auto shop," he said. "From the recordings on your site. I know it's you, Cas, so you can stop trying to tell me it's not."

"Oh," Cas said in a small voice. There was silence for a moment and then he cleared his throat and looked away. "I apologize. I didn't know - I wouldn't have posted it if I knew..." His voice trailed off. Dean could hear what he wasn't saying. Clearly enough, anyway.

"Why?" Dean asked. Castiel looked at him, confused. Dean clarified. "Why wouldn't you have posted it if you knew I'd see it?"

Castiel's puzzled expression became more pronounced.

"You are my friend, Dean," Cas said slowly. He looked down. "I didn't want to ruin that, but I didn't anticipate you already knowing about that account. It was my mistake." He took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. "If you'll excuse me." He made as if to get up, but Dean's hand shot out and he grabbed Castiel's wrist. Cas tensed at the contact, but he didn't try to pull away.

"Nothing's ruined, Cas," Dean said firmly. He squeezed Castiel's wrist briefly and his voice gentled. "Sit down, okay? It's not a big deal."

Castiel looked at him, expression dark.

"And if I said that I based the story off of a fantasy of mine?" he asked. "Would I still be welcome to sit with you then, Dean?"

Well, there was the answer to a question Dean hadn't been sure how to ask. The story was based off of truth. He grinned widely. Cas blinked, puzzled.

"Definitely," Dean replied. "And I'd say that you don't need to get me drunk to make it come true. Unless you're really fond of drunken fumbling, but let me tell you that I'm much better sober."

Castiel seemed stunned. He held perfectly still, eyes wide, for almost a minute. Dean began to feel edgy, like he had gone too far, but then Cas finally moved.

"Oh," he said, dropping heavily back onto the bench. He still didn't try to pull his wrist away from Dean's grip. Dean waited for him to speak, but Castiel's eyes rested briefly on Dean's hand holding his wrist, then flicked up to his face, and then finally away. "What-" He stopped.

"Talk to me, Cas," Dean said. He thoughtlessly rubbed his thumb along Cas's forearm. Castiel looked sharply towards the point of contact, then cleared his throat and pulled his arm away. Dean let him go, feeling suddenly cold. He swallowed thickly and shifted, backing away from Cas just a bit to give him space. "What is it?"

"What about Jo?" Castiel asked pointedly. Dean frowned.

"Jo?" he repeated. "What's she got to do with anything?"

Castiel hesitated.

"What would she think?" he asked. Dean's frown deepened.

"Does it matter?" he asked. Cas's expression hardened.

"Yes, it does matter, Dean," he said stiffly. Dean sat back on the bench, too baffled to be annoyed.

"You don't need to be so concerned," he said. He took a sip of his beer. "She told me to go for it, way back when I first met you."

"She-" Cas started, then stopped, apparently thrown. "She encouraged you?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "You want to tell me why Jo's opinion matters so much to you?" He thought for a second and scowled. "Is it because your brother has the hots for her?"

"Gabriel has no interest in Jo," Cas said, sounding as confused as Dean felt. He leaned forward. "Are you not dating?"

"Me and Jo?" Dean asked incredulously. "Dude, she's like my little sister!"

"Your sister?" Cas echoed, staring at Dean in surprise. "I thought..." His voice trailed off and he shook his head. He looked back at Dean, cautiously hopeful. "You're not dating anyone?"

"I don't do the relationship thing," Dean replied without thinking, a lifetime of habit finally coming back to bite him on the ass. He winced as soon as the words left his mouth. Castiel's expression shuttered.

"I see," he said blandly.

"I mean, I tried it once a long time ago. It didn't work out, and I haven't really tried again," Dean said. That hadn't come out right. "What I'm trying to say is-"

"You don't need to explain yourself to me, Dean," Cas said, looking around the Roadhouse. Anywhere but at Dean. Damnit.

"What I'm trying to say," Dean repeated firmly, willing Cas to look at him. "Is that I'm bad at relationships. The longest one I've had before this-“ He pointed at Cas and then himself.”- lasted two weeks."

Cas stilled. He didn't look at Dean.

"'Before this'?" Castiel echoed, voice carefully controlled. Dean half-smiled, relaxing.

"My brother pointed out that you and I were basically dating," he told Cas. "And I liked that idea. I was kind of pissed off at him because it wasn't actually true."

"Don't lie to me, Dean," Castiel asked quietly. He sounded like he hoped that Dean was being honest, but couldn't bring himself to trust his words. He met Dean's eyes before continuing. "Don't tell me what you think I want to hear."

Dean nodded.

"I'm not lying," he said. "And I'm not going to." He breathed in. He'd never be able to do this while completely sober, since this next bit came dangerously close to feelings. "I just wanted to have sex with you at first. One night, no strings and all that. You're fucking gorgeous, Cas, I wouldn't have been me if I didn't think about it."

Castiel looked away again, the tips of his ears red. Dean smiled.

"Then, well..." Dean cleared his throat and looked at his beer. "What your Dean and Cas had at the end of your story? I've wanted that for a while. I just didn't think you would." He took another deep breath, let it out slowly, and took a long sip of his drink. He set the bottle down firmly and wiped his mouth. "I like you and I'd like to date you."

Cas was dumbstruck for several seconds. Dean watched him nervously, palms sweating and heart pounding. He knew that Cas wanted it too, at least according to what had been written in 'One Drunken Night', but the silence was hell on his nerves.

"Say something," Dean said finally. Cas jerked, startled.

"What would you like me to say?" he said. Dean scratched the back of his head, chuckling uneasily.

"A 'yes' would be nice, for starters," he said. "You like me, I like you, neither of us are attached..." He paused, a sudden, ugly thought occurring to him. "Unless there's something you're not telling me?"

"No, I'm not seeing anyone," Cas said quickly. Dean relaxed.

"Then I'd like an answer." He chuckled. "I thought I was pretty clear this time, but in case I wasn't: will you go out with me?"

"'This time'?" Cas asked, a brief frown turning his lips down. Dean opened his mouth to explain, but then Cas cleared his throat and continued, looking uncomfortable. "You know that the story was my fantasy. I thought my answer was obvious."

"It still helps to hear it," Dean replied, relaxing. Cas met his eyes and held his gaze, expression serious.

"Then yes. I want to go out with you, Dean," Cas replied. "It's what I've wanted since we met." He frowned again. "What do you mean by 'this time'?"

"I tried asking you out when we met," Dean said. He took another sip of his beer and idly thought about flagging down the waitress to request another. Or menus, at least. "When I asked for your number."

"You were trying to ask me out on a date?" Cas asked. He sounded stunned.

"Yeah," Dean said, nodding. "I thought you knew that, up until you asked me whether or not friends usually pay for their own food."

Cas groaned and put a hand to his forehead. Dean watched, bemused.

"I'm going to kill Gabriel," Cas muttered.

"Why?" Dean asked, brow wrinkling in confusion. Castiel winced.

"I did initially think that you were asking me on a date," he admitted. "But I wasn't certain, so I asked my brother."

Dean groaned and slapped a hand to his face. He'd met Gabriel once and even he knew better than that. Castiel looked away, apparently embarrassed.

"I believe my brother may have been sarcastic when he replied. I don't remember his exact words, but he said something about how of course any man who asks for my phone number five minutes after meeting me just wants to be friends and probably does already have a girlfriend." Cas looked back at Dean. "At the time, I believed that you were dating Jo."

"Yes, Cas, he was being sarcastic," Dean said. He rubbed a hand over his face. No wonder Gabriel had picked up on Dean's interest in Cas so quickly. He'd been looking for it. A lot of Castiel's reactions all those weeks ago at dinner suddenly made a lot more sense. Castiel had believed that Gabriel was teasing him, not Dean. "We've wasted a lot of time."

"More than enough," Cas said lowly, agreeing. Dean gave him a little half-smile.

"We can fix that." He dropped his gaze for a second, then lifted it again. "I might be crap at this relationship thing. Fair warning."

"I consider myself warned," Cas said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. Dean's eyes dropped to Castiel's lips. He licked his own reflexively and noticed Castiel's gaze drop to follow the motion.

"Cas," Dean said thickly. Castiel's eyes flicked back up and they were dark with want. The look went straight to Dean's groin. He leaned forward slowly, not sure if he was more afraid of scaring Cas off or scaring himself. If he kissed Cas now, like he desperately wanted to, it would feel like sealing a deal. 

Cas leaned forward just as slowly, eyes dropping to Dean's lips again. Nothing could have stopped Dean after that. He closed the last bit of distance between them in seconds, capturing Castiel's mouth with his own at long last.

Castiel made a muffled noise of surprise but quickly got with the program. He leaned into the kiss, pressing his mouth more firmly against Dean's and lifting his hand tentatively to Dean's cheek. Dean moved into the contact, parting his lips to brush his tongue across Castiel's lower lip. Cas's mouth opened at the touch and he tilted his head to give Dean a better angle, making a small, pleased noise as he did so.

Dean dipped his tongue in for a quick taste and then pulled back before things could go too far. Cas tried to follow him as Dean sat back, but the table was in the way. Castiel shifted backwards, though he was still leaning over the table.

"Dean?" he asked in a voice even deeper than normal. His lips were slick with their combined saliva and Dean felt his dick twitch at the sight. If he had to make it through dinner like this, he'd explode out of sheer sexual frustration before dessert was served.

"How hungry are you?" Dean asked quickly.

"Not particularly," Cas replied immediately, realization in his tone. Dean grinned wickedly, almost jittery with anticipation.

"You want to get out of here?" he asked Cas quietly. He leaned forward, motioning for Castiel to do the same. Cas did, presenting his ear for Dean to whisper, "If you come home with me tonight, we're going to have sex. If you don't want that, then we can stay here and have a nice dinner, but..." He dipped his head briefly to press a kiss to Castiel's neck. "I'd really like for you to come home with me."

He felt Castiel's shiver rather than saw it.

"Yes," Castiel said hoarsely. Dean pulled back and grabbed his jacket from its place on the bench next to him. Cas followed suit a second later, pulling on his coat as Dean pulled out his wallet and tossed twenty bucks onto the table. It would be more than enough to cover his beers and an extremely generous tip, but Dean didn't have any smaller bills on him and wasn't about to wait for change.

He shoved his wallet back into his pocket and looked up. Cas was standing by the table with his coat on and his eyes fixed on Dean. Dean felt his body heat up under the scrutiny.

"Shall we?" he asked, keeping eye contact with Cas but tilting his head in the direction of the door.

"I'm ready." Cas's voice was layered with meaning and Dean turned away, fighting the urge to throw Cas onto the table and have his way with him right then and there. Ellen would kill him.

He started walking towards the door, hyper-aware of Castiel at his heels. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned his head to look as they passed the bar. Jo and Ash were watching them with big grins on their faces. Ash was giving Dean two thumbs up.

Dean felt his face heat with embarrassment. How long had they been watching? Probably since Cas arrived, or shortly thereafter. Jo had probably been responsible for the lack of interruptions while they were at the table, now that Dean thought of it. The waitresses in the Roadhouse were usually a lot quicker at serving people. Jo had probably asked them to leave Dean and Cas alone; she had remarked on Dean's agitated state when he had first arrived.

Dean shot her a grateful smile and a wink, then turned his attention back to the front and walked out into the parking lot. Cas was still a half-step behind him.

"Your car will be fine here for the night, if you want to leave it," Dean said, slowing his steps but heading in the direction of his car. "Or we've got parking by my apartment, if you want to drive yourself."

"I'll go with you," Cas said immediately. Dean quickened his stride, leading Cas to the Impala. He didn't want to wait any longer than he had to, but wanted to do this with Cas properly. That meant a bed, not the backseat, and the closest option they had was Dean's apartment.

Dean unlocked the door and slid into his seat, leaning over in the same motion and unlocking the passenger side door as well. Cas got into the car and closed the door. By the time he buckled his seatbelt, Dean was already belted in and had the car running.

Dean took a deep breath as he drove out of the parking lot. He had to keep his focus on driving and on the road, but Cas was incredibly distracting. Castiel wasn't even doing anything, he was simply sitting in the passenger seat, radiating heat, and staring every so often at Dean. Dean could feel his eyes like a physical touch every time Cas glanced his way. The drive to the apartment was mostly silent, as Dean hadn't bothered with the radio, and with nothing to distract them from it, the tension kept on building.

After what had to be some of the longest minutes of Dean's life, he pulled into his reserved parking spot in the apartment building's garage. As he did so, in his peripheral vision he noticed a pensive expression on Castiel's face. It looked like he was thinking deeply about something, possibly the wisdom of jumping right into bed with a man who had flat out said that he didn't do relationships. Dean kicked himself again for the thoughtless comment.

He shut off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt and then turned to face Castiel. Cas was fumbling with his seatbelt, trying to get it unbuckled.

"Cas," Dean said, reaching across and putting his hand on Castiel's shoulder. Cas looked up. "If you're having second thoughts, we can still go back to the Roadhouse and just have dinner." Reality was different from fiction. It never went as easily in real life as in stories, so Dean wouldn't honestly be surprised if Cas decided that things were moving too quickly. Disappointed as hell, but he wasn't going to rush Cas. He'd just have to suffer blue balls one more night.

"'Second-'" Cas started to say, surprised. He smiled thinly and shook his head. "No, Dean, I'm not having second thoughts. I want this."

Thank God.

"It's just.." Cas trailed off and looked down. He seemed to be steeling himself for something and Dean felt his nervousness increase. "I don't want you to be disappointed. I haven't... done this before."

"What?" Dean asked. He forced himself to chuckle in hopes of lessening the tension. It didn't help. "You've never fucked on the first date?" It wasn't really the first, but it was the first time they had both admitted to wanting more than friendship. "Don't worry, Cas, I'll still respect you in the morning."

"This isn't funny, Dean," Cas said, shooting Dean a narrow glare. Dean blinked, confused. Cas looked away from him again. "I haven't had sex before."

"With a man?" Dean asked slowly, because he had kind of figured that, but with the way Cas was talking, it didn't sound like that was all he meant.

"With anyone," Cas said. He looked at Dean apologetically. "I know that you prefer partners with experience, but-"

"Wait a minute," Dean said, holding up a hand. Cas went quiet. Dean's jaw worked for a second, lost for words, but then he found his voice again. "You're a virgin? You've never-"

"I've never had occasion," Castiel said, looking down. "I have enough technical knowledge, but I've never... applied it."

"I thought..." Dean shook his head, still reeling. "How'd you write your stories?"

Castiel shot him a pained look.

"I have a vivid imagination and an Internet connection, Dean. How do you think I write my stories?"

"Oh." Dean sat back in his seat. He imagined Cas sitting at his computer, looking up porn as research for his stories. Dean felt a wave of heat wash over him, only to be followed by another, larger wave when he recalled his earlier fantasies of being the first to touch Cas sexually. He'd dismissed the fantasy at the time, convinced that he'd never get the chance to get Cas horizontal and that Cas wouldn't be a virgin in any case, but Castiel hadn't had sex before. They were sitting in the car now, out of Dean’s apartment, in order to have sex. Dean really would be his first.

"If it's a problem-" Cas started to say, but Dean cut him off.

"It's not a problem," Dean said, giving him a quick grin. "Trust me, it's really not." He looked in the direction of the apartment and then back to Castiel. "Come upstairs?"

Cas's eyes traced over Dean's lips and searched his face. Dean tried to keep his expression honest, hoping the eagerness he couldn't keep out of it didn't scare Cas away. Cas must have been satisfied with whatever he saw because he relaxed and nodded.

"Let's go," Dean said, getting out of the car.


	4. Chapter 4

The tension between them was palpable the entire walk to the apartment. Dean fumbled his key twice trying to fit it into the lock and Cas was no help, standing so close to Dean that he could feel the heat from Castiel's body. It was ten times more distracting than it had been in the car, since the distance to the goal was much shorter now.

Dean finally got the door open and let Cas through first so that he could lock the door behind them. He took the lead again immediately after, motioning for Cas to follow him through the darkened apartment. There were no lights on in Sam's room, either, Dean noted as they passed it. Hopefully the younger Winchester was out.

Dean put his hand on the small of Castiel's back and ushered him into Dean's room. Dean groped for the light switch and flipped on the lights before shutting the door and locking it behind them. He was briefly grateful that he had thought to clean up his room a bit before heading out to meet Cas; the floor was basically void of dirty clothes and the bed was made. Hopefully it looked inviting enough, even if Dean hadn't been able to wash his sheets. By the time he had thought of it, it was too late for them to dry fully before dinner. Better dirty sheets than none at all, he'd thought.

Dean turned to look at Cas, who was looking around the small room with an expression of interest. As Dean watched, Cas took a step closer to the left wall to get a better view of the photograph hung there with a thumbtack. Dean had a few other photographs tacked to his wall as well, amid the Metallica and Led Zepplin posters he had taped up, but the one Cas seemed to be looking at was the largest of them.

Dean grinned wryly and toed out of his boots. They'd get in the way later. He took off his jacket and tossed it aside too. Now in stocking feet, he padded across the room to Castiel and wrapped his arms around the other man from behind. Castiel tensed for a second in surprise, neck twitching as if he intended to look back, but then he relaxed and leaned into the embrace. Dean rested his chin lightly on Castiel's shoulder, staring at the photograph.

It was the last picture taken of the whole Winchester family, just weeks before Mary had died in the fire that had consumed their house, all earthly belongings, and John Winchester's spirit. In the picture, John had one arm around Mary's waist and the other resting proudly on Dean's shoulder. It was the last time Dean could remember seeing such a care-free look on his father's face. Dean was grinning in the picture, showing off his missing front tooth. Mary was holding baby Sammy, who was staring at the camera with a wide-eyed look. Mary was practically glowing with contentment, a soft smile on her face.

"Is this your family?" Castiel asked, more for confirmation than out of curiosity.

"Yeah," Dean said, nodding minutely. "That's my mom-" He lifted an arm from around Castiel to point at Mary. "-my dad-" He indicated John. "-my brother and me." He pointed to baby Sammy and let his arm drop.

"You have no more recent pictures?" Cas asked. Dean winced and Castiel must have felt it, because he half-turned in Dean's arms. "Dean?"

"No, I don't," Dean said, looking away from the photograph. "My mom died a few weeks after that picture was taken."

"Oh," Cas said. He was quiet for a moment. "I'm sorry."

Dean wasn't sure if he was apologizing for bringing it up or if it was the kind of 'I'm sorry' everyone who loses a family member gets from people who hear about the death years later.

"Don't be. You didn't know," Dean told him. He met Castiel's eyes and smiled thinly. "She would have liked you." Mary would have thought that Cas was adorably awkward and probably would have been pleased that Dean was finally getting serious about someone. John might've had a few hang-ups about it being a man Dean was dating, but Mary would have brought him around eventually.

"I'm pleased to hear that," Cas said, looking back at the picture. "I think I would have liked her as well."

They were quiet for a minute and then Dean chuckled.

"You know, you're the first person I've brought back here who actually cared about any of this." He waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the collection of photographs. The few times he had brought someone back here instead of going to their place, they had completely ignored the rest of the room in favor of the bed. They hadn't cared about his family or about his music or about anything else that made Dean Dean. Dean hadn't cared at the time, since all he'd wanted from those people was sex.

It was kind of reassuring that Cas was different. Castiel wanted to know Dean and not just in the Biblical sense. 

"Have you brought many people back here?" Cas asked, tone a touch too sharp for the question to be entirely casual. Dean chuckled again and turned his head to press his lips to Castiel's temple. It was a tender gesture he'd never made before, but it felt natural.

"Are you jealous?" he asked, curious rather than teasing. After a moment, Cas shook his head.

"It is all in the past," he said slowly. Dean grinned again.

"You didn't answer my question," he pointed out smugly. Dean thought of telling Cas that he had been jealous of Castiel's lovers before he had known that Cas was a virgin, but thought the better of it. He wasn't near drunk enough to be that sentimental. Not out loud.

He dipped his head and brushed his lips over Castiel's neck. Cas shivered at the contact. Maybe a little sentiment wouldn't hurt.

"I'm really glad I'm your first," Dean murmured, sliding a possessive hand over Castiel's hip. Dean lifted his hands to Castiel's shoulders and tugged at his coat. He snagged Cas's suit jacket as well and pulled both off, Cas moving his arms to help. Dean gave both garments a gentle toss to the side.

Castiel turned around to face Dean and lifted a hand to cup his cheek. Dean allowed himself to be pulled in for a kiss, opening his mouth automatically at the tentative touch of Castiel's tongue. Cas grew bolder at that, tilting his head to get a better angle and moving his tongue more confidently to taste Dean's mouth. His hands went to Dean's shoulders, the contact hot as brands. Dean put his hands on Castiel's hips, though he didn't stay idle for long. He began tugging at the shirt, pulling it untucked.

The kiss broke and Cas pulled back, gasping.

"Bed?" Dean asked, a bit breathless himself. Castiel nodded.

"That sounds like a good idea," he said. Dean leaned in and kissed him again. He began backing towards the bed, Cas following him eagerly. By the time the back of Dean's knees hit the edge of the mattress, Castiel's hands had moved to the hem of Dean's shirt and were lifting it to get at the skin beneath. Dean broke away from Cas and tugged at his T-shirt impatiently. It got briefly stuck when he was pulling it over his head and he gave it an extra hard pull before it finally came free. He threw it to the side somewhere. He'd find it in the morning.

Cas had gotten rid of his tie and was struggling with the buttons of his shirt when Dean looked back at him. His hands were trembling, most likely from a mix of nerves and excitement, and as a result he had maybe two buttons undone. Dean chuckled and caught Castiel's hands with his own.

"Do you even know how buttons work?" he asked teasingly. He pressed his mouth to Castiel's again, already addicted to the taste of him, and began to quickly unbutton the other man's shirt. He was surprised to note a faint tremor in his own hands. Castiel returned the kiss briefly but passionately, then pulled back in order to speak.

"I do. My hands are just nervous," Cas said. His voice was breathless and his lips were shiny and wet with saliva. His shirt was unbuttoned and hung loose and though his undershirt was still in the way, it was the most undressed Dean had ever seen him. A wave of heat washed over Dean, gathering low in his body.

"Just your hands?" he asked, voice husky. "What about the rest of you?"

"About the same," Cas murmured. He was distracted by the sight of Dean's bare chest. His eyes raked over the naked skin and darkened with lust. He lifted his gaze to meet Dean's and then leaned in and kissed him again, as though unable to help himself. Dean went to shove the button-up shirt off of Castiel's shoulders, but Cas was already ahead of him and shrugging out of said shirt impatiently. Dean's hands met warm skin and he stroked over it for a moment before gently guiding Cas to sit down on the bed.

The kiss broke reluctantly as Cas sank onto the mattress. He kicked off his shoes and pulled his undershirt free from the waistband of his pants before tugging it over his head. Dean knelt between Castiel's legs, eye level with his chest. He laid his hands on Cas's thighs and heard Cas's breath hitch in response.

Castiel dropped his undershirt off to the side and stared at Dean. His eyes were full of nervous anticipation and desire.

"If I do anything you don't want, you have to tell me, Cas," Dean said seriously. "Tell me to stop and I will, but otherwise I'm going to keep going."

Cas was already nodding. It was encouragement to keep going.

"I don't think there is anything you could do to me that I would object to," he said with absolute trust. Dean shivered and pressed his mouth to the center of Cas's chest. He could feel the other man's rapid heartbeat against his lips. The weight Cas had just put on Dean's shoulder with his words was heavy, but Dean felt better for carrying it. He'd be worth this, he'd make sure of it.

"Dean..." Cas breathed, resting a hand hesitantly on Dean's shoulder. He sucked in a ragged breath as Dean dragged his lips to one of Cas's nipples, leaving a wet trail. Dean mouthed at the skin for a moment and then lightly nipped at the hardened peak, drawing a full-body jerk and another harsh gasp of Dean's name from Castiel.

So Cas was sensitive there. Some guys weren't and didn't like Dean playing with their chest. Dean lifted a hand and ran his thumb over Castiel's other nipple, feeling it stiffen under his touch. Dean continued on down to Castiel's navel, paying special attention to hotspots he had found on other partners' bodies as he went. One or two seemed to be hits and Dean noted the noises Cas made in relation to which spots. He'd revisit those later.

He dipped his tongue into Castiel's navel and brought his hands down to the other man's belt. Dean quickly undid Cas's belt as he nipped and licked at the hard planes of his stomach. Cas's hands slid up into Dean's hair, tensing as if Cas wanted to grab fistfuls of hair and push Dean's mouth down further, but he didn't quite dare.

"Tell me what you want, Cas." Dean said. He looked up at Castiel's face. Cas's eyes had gone almost black, the iris only a faint blue line around the pupil. He was panting lightly and his skin was flushed. Dean rose back up a little, just enough to mouth over the reddened skin and nip at the line of his collarbone. "Tell me, Cas. I'll do it, but you gotta tell me. I want to hear that gorgeous voice of yours." Dirty talk had always been one of Dean's kinks, but none of his other partners had had a voice as hot as Castiel's. Dean toyed with the button on Castiel's slacks, hand brushing the erection he could feel straining against the zipper. Cas sucked in a sharp breath at the touch.

"I want your mouth," he said. "I want you to blow me, Dean. I want you to take my cock between those perfect lips of yours and suck on it."

Oh, yeah, Cas was good. His dirty talk wasn't the dirtiest Dean had ever heard, but it had more of an effect on him.

Dean settled back down, his pants uncomfortably tight around his erection. Christ, he hadn't even touched himself and he was this hard?

He made short work of Castiel's button and zipper, despite his trembling hands. He grabbed the waistbands of both the pants and the dark blue boxers Cas was wearing and tugged them downwards.

"Let's get these off," he said. Cas planted his feet on the floor more firmly and raised himself up off of the mattress, using his hands to help remove the restrictive clothing. Dean quickly pulled the garments over Cas's thighs and calves. Castiel shook them off the rest of the way and Dean shoved them aside. He yanked Castiel's socks off as well and threw those over his shoulder.

Cas settled back onto the bed and moaned with relief as the cooler air of the room hit his erection. He gasped when Dean lightly stroked him, hips jerking into the contact. Cas was circumcised and felt like silk over heated steel in his hands. Dean briefly thought of grabbing a condom, as safe sex had been his policy since he'd slept with a waitress with a weird rash he hadn't asked enough questions about, but Cas was clean. Dean was the first person to touch him like this and the thought sent a heady mix of possessiveness and satisfaction through him. This would feel a lot better for Cas without a layer of latex, anyway.

"Don't... tease me..." Cas said. His hands tightened in Dean's hair and he pushed Dean down insistently. Dean let himself be guided, wrapping his hand more firmly around the base of Castiel's dick and directing the head of it into his mouth. Dean's free hand went to his own belt and pants, struggling to loosen them before the zipper burst.

The noise that Castiel made when Dean's lips closed over the head of his erection was glorious. That sound would live on in Dean's spank bank forever, no matter how many times he heard it. Cas was hot and heavy on Dean's tongue as Dean slid him in deeper. Dean sucked and slid back, taking a quick breath before diving right back in and taking in more of Castiel's erection.  
Dean's fumbling hand finally got his pants open and he groaned in relief as his dick was freed. The sound traveled as a vibration along Castiel's cock and Cas gave a choked cry. Dean swallowed more of him and moaned again deliberately, caressing with his other hand everything he couldn't fit into his mouth.

"Dean," Castiel gasped out, hips bucking. Dean pulled back to avoid being choked. He gave Castiel's manhood long, slow strokes along the shaft and let his tongue play over the head. Castiel whimpered and his arms twitched with the desire to shove Dean's mouth back down. Dean was quite content where he was and he moved his mouth's attentions to Castiel's milky inner thighs and the thatch of hair at the base of Castiel's dick. He kept up the motions of his hand, though now he slid his thumb over the head at the beginning of every downward stroke. Castiel made several pleased noises, hips jerking into the motions of Dean's hand. Castiel slid his hands down to rest on Dean's shoulders and he squeezed lightly.

"Did you ever think about this?" Dean asked, lips brushing Castiel's abdomen with every syllable. He rose up on his knees, careful not to disrupt the motions of his hand on Castiel's cock, and nuzzled Cas's neck. Castiel ran his fingertips over Dean's spine and the muscles in Dean's back. "About me on my knees in front of you, sucking your brain out through your dick?"

"Yes," Cas said breathlessly, tilting his head as Dean began to nip and kiss at his throat. "Your mouth could tempt an angel to fall or a saint to sin." He turned his head and captured Dean's lips in a bruising kiss. Dean responded hungrily, moving his tongue into Castiel's mouth to taste him there. Cas broke the kiss, panting heavily and resting his forehead against Dean's. His hips were moving helplessly, jerking into every motion of Dean's hand. His cock was slick with precome and Dean could feel more leaking out the tip every time he drew his thumb over it.

"I want your mouth again," Cas said hoarsely. "I want to see how much of me you can take."

"How close are you?" Dean asked, slowing the motion of his hand. Castiel made a small noise of protest.

"Very," he said. "Please, Dean-"

"I said I'd do what you asked," Dean said, lowering himself again. He kept his eyes locked with Castiel's for as long as he could before he had to look to see what he was doing. He settled his hands on Castiel's hips, holding him still for what was to come. He licked the weeping head of Castiel's manhood, tasting his precome before taking Cas back into his mouth. Cas took in a shuddering breath and Dean sank further. Dean could feel Castiel's eyes on him, staring intently as Dean took more and more of him in. Cas's erection hit the back of Dean's throat, but Dean wasn't done yet. He swallowed and slid down the rest of the way, nose pressing into the dark patch of hair at the base of Castiel's cock.

"Dean!" Cas cried out, grabbing onto Dean's shoulders. Dean swallowed around him and Cas gave another choked cry as he came. Dean felt it hit the back of his throat in hot spurts. He swallowed around Cas again and then slowly drew back, keeping up the suction of his mouth to milk Castiel's orgasm for all it was worth. More of Castiel's come landed on his tongue and he swallowed that too. Once Cas was finally spent, Dean drew fully off of Castiel's softening cock.

Castiel looked blissed out. His chest heaved with every breath. Dean grinned and rose up on his knees, reaching out a hand to cup Castiel's cheek. Cas turned into the touch and let himself be drawn into a soft kiss. Dean opened his mouth beneath Castiel's lips, inviting his tongue in to taste Dean's mouth. Cas languidly accepted the invitation, his eyes fluttering shut, and he made a small noise of pleasure at the new, slightly salty taste he found on Dean's tongue. Dean drew back with a quiet, wet sound.

"Still with me?" he asked. Castiel nodded.

"I think so," he replied. He kissed Dean again, slowly. "I want to make you feel the way I do right now. Tell me, what do you want me to do, Dean?"

Dean shivered and closed his eyes. Behind his eyelids, he could see visions of Cas on his elbows and knees, hips canted to accept Dean inside of his body. Or maybe splayed out on his back, so Dean could see every expression Cas made as he pushed into him. He groaned, cock twitching with desire, but he didn't want to push Cas too far too quickly. Dean had been with plenty of guys who were quite happy with handjobs and blowjobs and had no interest in trying anal. It was messy, a bit painful, and it took time to properly prep the person taking it, but God was it amazing.

It was also probably a bit too much to ask of a guy who'd just had his first partner-inspired orgasm.

"I want you to use your hand or suck me off, whichever you'd be more comfortable with," Dean said, opening his eyes. He stood up and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his pants, erection hanging out the open zipper. Castiel stared and licked his lips in what looked like an unconscious move. Dean found his eyes fixed upon those lips. "Or, hell, you could just talk and watch me while I touch myself. That'd work too."

Cas looked up and met Dean's eyes.

"I want to use my mouth," he said. He scooted closer to the edge of the mattress. "But you'll need to tell me what to do, what feels good. Teach me how to please you."

Dean groaned, another wave of arousal hitting him as Cas spoke. His dick had gone a bit limp due to the lack of attention paid it, but was quickly hardening again.

"Trust me, pleasing me won't be a problem," he said. Dean shucked off his pants and socks and turned to the nightstand. He opened up the drawer and retrieved a pack of condoms, taking one out and tossing the rest of the half-full box back in. He could feel Castiel's eyes raking over his now nude form and his cock hardened further under the scrutiny.

He turned back to Cas and bent over to kiss him, gently urging him back further onto the bed. Cas complied, making room for Dean on the mattress. Dean broke the kiss reluctantly as he sat down. He quickly tore open the foil packet, dropped it off the side of the bed, and rolled the condom over his erection with the ease of long practice.

Castiel reached out and touched him, wrapping his fingers carefully around Dean's manhood. Dean hissed, sparks of pleasure shooting through his veins.

"I would have preferred to do this without anything between us," Cas said. "Like you did for me." His hand moved awkwardly up and down Dean's dick, his inexperience showing. It was good enough for Dean. Jolts of bliss ran through his nervous system and he groaned in appreciation. He imagined what it would be like without the thin barrier between them, imagined what it would be like once Cas finally used his mouth, imagined Cas sucking him off without a condom and watching Cas swallow after.

"Soon as I get tested," Dean promised. "Once we know I'm clean, then yes. Oh, fuck yes."

The motions of Castiel's hand had become smoother and more confident. Dean's hips twitched, but he held still through sheer force of will. Cas suddenly stopped and he put the hand that had been stroking Dean's erection on Dean's chest. Dean whimpered at the loss.

"Lay down, Dean," Cas said, pushing gently. Dean quickly complied. He moved to the center of the mattress, but rather than lie down, he propped himself up on his elbows so he could see what Cas was doing.

Castiel settled himself in between Dean's legs, nudging one of Dean's thighs with his knee to make more room for himself. He bent over Dean's arousal. He grabbed it gently, using his other hand to brace himself against the mattress, and lowered his head. Castiel licked him tentatively at first, then slowly opened his mouth and took the head in between his lips.

"Just like that, Cas," Dean said, hands digging into the sheets beneath him. He fought with instinct to keep himself still, watching with wide eyes as Castiel's mouth swallowed him deeper. He hardly blinked, not wanting to miss a moment of the sight.

Cas drew back a bit, cheeks hollowing out as he sucked, and then bobbed back down. The blowjob was messy and unskilled, but damn if it wasn't one of the hottest things Dean had ever experienced. Castiel began to use his hand in conjunction with the motions of his head. He had a few false starts, but then he found his rhythm and quickly grew more confident. His hand stroked whatever he didn't have in his mouth. A symphony of quiet 'mmm's issued from his mouth.

"Fuck," Dean said breathlessly, chest heaving. Cas pulled back to breathe deeply. He kept up his rhythm with his hand, stroking Dean more and more quickly. "Cas..."

Cas didn't reply with words. He bent down again and took more of Dean's dick into his mouth. Dean could feel the head of his cock hit the back of Castiel's throat and then Cas tried to take him in even deeper. He pulled back abruptly, gagging a bit, but then took a deep breath and tried again.

"Christ," Dean gasped out. Cas had to draw back again, making a small noise of frustration as he did so.

"This seemed so easy when you did it," he said hoarsely. Dean sat up, painfully hard, and put his hand on the nape of Castiel's neck. Cas straightened up and had just opened his mouth to ask a question when Dean leaned forward and kissed him passionately. Cas moaned into the kiss and crawled into Dean's lap, grinding his hips into Dean's and grabbing onto his shoulders for balance. Dean realized that Cas must have gotten hard again while blowing him, because he could feel the other man's erection rubbing against his own. Dean groaned and responded, quickly establishing a rhythm. He broke the kiss and ran his fingertips up and down Castiel's sides.

"I've had practice," Dean said. Cas looked adorably confused for a second, pleasure clouding his eyes from the friction between their bodies, and so Dean continued. "Deepthroating. Most people can't do it the first time, but fuck it's hot that you tried."

"You will teach me how to do that?" Cas asked breathlessly, hips still moving against Dean's. Dean nodded and rested his forehead against Castiel's chest. His hands sank down to cup Castiel's ass, squeezing the firm mounds and fingertips teasing the cleft between.

"Yes. Fuck yes," Dean said, pressing his open mouth to Castiel's neck. He'd be more than happy to teach Cas how, especially if Cas used his knowledge at every opportunity thereafter. Dean quickened their rhythm, thrusting against Castiel's body. His fingers teased at Cas's entrance almost unconsciously, not quite pressing in but running over the small hole. Cas shivered, motions becoming jerky as he tried to thrust against both the motion of Dean's hips and the touch of his fingers.

"Dean..." Cas moaned. His grip tightened almost painfully on Dean's shoulders and he tucked his head next to Dean's ear. "Dean, fuck me."

Dean stilled, groaning with want. Cas whined quietly at the sudden cessation of friction, body shivering with need. Dean felt like he was going to die if he didn't come in the next few minutes, but for the chance to fuck Cas, he could hold off.

"Are you sure?" he asked desperately. Please be sure, please be sure. "We don't have to do that tonight. Or ever, if you don't want to." But Dean did. His earlier imaginings of burying himself to the hilt in Castiel's body came back and he moaned again. "Cas."

"I'm sure," Cas said. He was still speaking against Dean's ear and every word reverberated down Dean's spine and added to heat low in his body. "I want you to fuck me. I want you to stick your cock in me as far as it will go and fuck me so hard I feel it for a week."

Dean had pretty good self-control, but he was only human. He'd been able to resist asking Cas for this earlier, but he wasn't about to refuse since Cas was offering.

"Lube," he said, extremely eloquently given how he was feeling. "Got some in the nightstand."

Cas slid off of Dean's body and Dean rolled onto his side. He had to scoot a little closer to the edge to open the drawer, which he did impatiently. He fumbled in the drawer for the tube he had gone out and bought earlier that day in anticipation of tonight. After several seconds that felt like an eternity, his fingers found it and he straightened up triumphantly. He turned back to Cas to find him lying on his side on the mattress, staring up at Dean intently.

"How do you want to do this?" Dean asked, shifting to allow Cas to lay in the middle of the bed. Dean's eyes kept raking up and down Castiel's body, relishing the faint red marks on his chest.

"On my back," Cas said, settling his head on Dean's pillow and spreading his legs. "I want to see your face."

Dean opened up the tube of lubricant hastily. He squirted some onto his palm, getting rather more than he had expected, and let it warm there for a moment as he thought about how best to position himself while preparing Cas. Dean set the tube aside, but still on the bed within easy reach for later. He slicked up three of his fingers and put one leg in between Castiel's. He propped himself up above Castiel with one arm and kissed him softly. Dean's slick hand moved steadily towards the goal, hovering over Castiel's skin until it finally reached between his legs.

"Tell me if you want to stop," Dean murmured, circling Castiel's entrance with one lubed finger.

"Give it to me, Dean," Cas said, pulling Dean's head down for a kiss. Dean responded and slowly slid his first finger inside. Cas shivered, briefly breaking the kiss to breathe. Dean peppered soft kisses over Castiel's face, moving his finger in a circular motion. He was so aroused it hurt, but he couldn't rush this. He'd might end up seriously hurting Cas if he did and he wouldn't be able to stomach that.

"You're so hot, Cas," Dean said, licking the soft spot behind Castiel's ear. "Inside and out. Can't wait to find out what you feel like around my dick."

Cas trembled and Dean slid his first finger out. He teased Cas's entrance with two lubricated fingers, pressing briefly in but mostly playing around the rim. He could feel Cas tensing beneath him, anticipation making his muscles clench.

"You gotta relax, Cas," Dean murmured. He kissed Cas and whispered comforting nonsense against his lips, slowly pushing in with two fingers. Cas hissed at the initial burn. His body was quivering as though he wanted to move but wasn't quite sure if he wanted to move away or move closer. Castiel's hands slid from Dean's hair and he wrapped his arms around Dean's back, nails digging in to his shoulderblades.

"Keep going," Cas said, lifting his hips a little in encouragement. Dean slid his fingers all the way in and crooked them, looking for that spot to rub against. His questing fingers brushed something and Castiel's body jerked, arms tightening their hold. "Dean."

Found it.

Dean slid his fingers partway out and spread them. He moved the digits in and out as he scissored them, trying to spread as much lube around as he could and stretch the muscles so Cas's body would let him in with minimal pain. Every so often, just to feel the clench of Castiel's body around his own, Dean would brush carefully against Cas's prostate. Very quickly, Cas was moving into the touch of Dean's hand and spreading his legs wider in a silent plea.

"Do you like my fingers?" Dean asked, caressing the other man's inner walls. "Do you like how they feel buried in your virgin ass?"

"Yes," Cas gasped out. He bucked as Dean touched his prostate again. "More, Dean. Please, I want more."

Dean withdrew his fingers. Cas whined quietly, then watched with wide eyes as Dean relubricated all three of his fingers. Dean put the lube aside again, knowing he'd need it at least once more before the night was over. Dean lowered his slicked hand to Castiel's ass again and pressed his fingers to his entrance.

"Don't tease me," Cas said, thrusting against the lubed digits. Dean slid them forward and in and Cas froze at the intrusion. He panted heavily, arms clenched around Dean. Dean felt a stab of guilt and immediately tried to withdraw his fingers.

"Shit, sorry-"

Castiel locked his thighs together, trapping Dean's hand where it was, fingers still half-buried inside of Cas.

"Don't. It's fine," Cas said. He shifted his hips a bit, gasping softly, and then settled. His legs opened up again. "Keep going."

Dean kissed him gently and moved his fingers slowly back into Castiel's body. Cas gave little, hitching gasps as Dean moved, but he didn't seem to be in much, if any, pain. Dean kept moving his fingers, opening Cas up. He was shaking from arousal, but he kept coaxing the muscles to relax until he was mostly satisfied.

"Can I... Cas, please..." Dean murmured brokenly against Castiel's lips. He kissed Cas briefly, wanting to kiss him but not wanting to block his answer.

"Yes," Cas said. "Now, Dean."

Dean pulled his fingers out quickly and reached for the tube of lubricant before straightening up. He squirted more onto his hand, trembling with need, and spread it over his erection. He wouldn't last long once he was inside of Cas, but seeing as Cas's cock was already leaking precome just from the stretching, Dean didn't think time would be much of an issue.

Cas spread his legs wider as Dean settled in between them. Dean slid his hands over Castiel's thighs to his knees, then hooked his hands behind the joints and gently pulled upwards. Cas bent his legs and pulled them to his chest, holding his knees open. The position gave Dean complete access to anything he might want to touch.

Dean leaned over Cas, bracing himself against the bed with one hand while the other went to his cock to guide himself into Castiel's body. He pressed the head of his erection against the stretched and lubed entrance.

"Last chance to back out," he felt compelled to say. His voice was breathless and uneven. Cas let go of his legs and dug his knees into Dean's sides. His arms wrapped loosely around Dean's neck and he pulled him down.

"Fuck me," Cas commanded. Dean groaned and pushed in, feeling the ring of muscle give way under the pressure. Cas choked out a gasp, body tensing, and Dean stilled. He ran a hand comfortingly up and down one of Castiel's sides, murmuring comforting nonsense against Castiel's neck.

"-come on, Cas, relax for me. Let me in, you can do it, I know you can-"

Castiel forced himself to relax. He took deep breaths and the tension slowly bled out of his body.

"Move," he told Dean. Dean pushed in a little further and halted, waiting to see if Cas would tense again. When all Cas did was draw in a sharp breath, Dean moved again. He slid in slowly, alert for any sign that this was too much, but saw none. When he was finally fully sheathed inside of Cas, he stopped and just breathed.

Cas was hot and tight and perfect around him and Dean wanted so badly to move, but he couldn't, not just yet. He had to wait until Cas had adjusted, gotten used to the feeling of having something so large inside of him. Dean was significantly bigger than three fingers.

"Dean... Dean, this feels..." Cas gasped out. His muscles spasmed around Dean and Dean moaned loudly.

"Jesus Christ. Fuck, Cas, I gotta... I've gotta move, please..." he said. Cas nodded frantically, eyes glazed over with a mixture of mild pain and immense pleasure.

"Yes."

Dean needed no more permission. He pulled out just a little and then thrust back in sharply. He slid out a bit further the second time, then snapped his hips home again. He groaned and began thrusting in earnest, angling his hips to strike Castiel's prostate with every stroke and quickly building a fast-paced rhythm. Cas met him thrust for thrust. Dean slid the hand that he'd used to lubricate himself in between their bodies to wrap around Cas's erection. He began jerking the other man in time to his thrusts, wanting to get them both off soon. Dean's need was painful and he was sure that Cas couldn't be in a much better state.

"Dean... Dean..." Cas kept on moaning, his entire vocabulary apparently reduced down to Dean's name. Dean wasn't much better off, only able to call 'Cas' over and over again with the occasional expletive.

"Fuck, Cas... you close?" he asked breathlessly. He could feel his orgasm approaching rapidly and he fought to keep his eyes open against the overwhelming pleasure. He wanted to see Cas's face as he came.

Cas could only nod, unable to speak.

"Come for me," Dean said. "Let me see you come."

As if he had been waiting for permission, it took only two more hard thrusts before Cas was arching his back and crying out. Dean felt the other man's come paint his abdomen in hot, sticky spurts. Castiel's inner walls clenched around Dean's dick and Dean tried to keep fucking him through his orgasm, to rub up against his prostate and prolong the high for as long as possible, but he couldn't. He had needed to come for too long and he only managed one more thrust before following Castiel into ecstasy.

Dean collapsed next to Castiel on the bed, panting heavily and body slick with sweat. He just breathed for several minutes, hyper-aware of Cas panting next to him and the fact that his spent cock was still buried inside of the other man's body. Dean's dick was trying feebly to take interest in the faint clenching of Castiel's muscles, but Dean was too fucked out to manage.

With a groan, Dean managed to push himself off of Cas and pull out. He flopped over onto his back and turned his head to the side so he could watch Cas as he recovered.

Castiel's expression was beautiful. He looked blissed out, small tufts of hair clumping together and stuck to his neck and forehead by sweat. His chest heaved with every breath, little streaks of white visible lower down on his body. His eyes were no longer dark with want, but were instead glazed over with contentment.

"That was amazing," Cas said quietly, staring at Dean.

"Yeah..." Dean said, grinning softly. He was rather less experienced with pillow talk than he was in sex, but he'd give it a go. This was usually the part of the evening where he or his date would be pulling their clothes back on and thanking each other for a nice time.

Dean rolled onto his side and reached out to touch Castiel's cheek. He scooted forward and pressed his mouth to Cas's in a simple brush of lips. He pulled back, feeling like he should say something like 'goodnight, Cas' or 'stay', but Castiel's eyes were already sliding shut and making words unnecessary. Dean quickly rolled over and hit the light switch. He tugged off the used condom and tied the top shut before dropping it over the side of the bed, hoping he didn't find it with his foot in the morning. Dean leaned over the side of the bed and grabbed the first cloth-like item that he touched. It was his own discarded shirt. He quickly wiped himself off and then cleaned Cas off as well. They could shower properly tomorrow.

Castiel watched him sleepily, shifting lethargically as Dean pulled the blankets out from under their bodies. Dean covered them both before laying back down, again on his side to face Castiel in the dark.

Cas shifted closer to Dean almost unconsciously, already more than half asleep. His arm slipped over Dean's waist and Dean let it, allowing himself to be pulled into Castiel's embrace. Dean folded one arm underneath his pillow and used the other to pull Castiel even closer. Their legs tangled together.

"Just this once," Dean whispered, voice so quiet it wasn't even audible to his own ears. "I don't cuddle."

Cas made a sleepy noise and tucked his head under Dean's chin.

Maybe cuddling was a lot like having a relationship, Dean thought as he drifted to sleep. You just had to find the right person to do it with.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Castiel woke slowly, body warm but sore and aching in ways it never had before. He moved closer to the source of heat without opening his eyes, not wanting to get up just yet and face those aches.

His pillow breathed.

Cas opened his eyes, memories of the previous night coming back to him. He smiled and lifted his head up carefully. Dean stirred but did not wake and Cas took the opportunity to just watch him.

He hadn't expected that last night would bring them here this morning. It had seemed like too much to hope for that any night would bring them here. The morning light filtered weakly through the shades over the window in Dean's room and cast shadows over Dean's face. Castiel traced the shadows with his eyes and found his gaze lingering on the other man's lips.

It was early yet and Cas didn't want to wake Dean. Not right now.

Cas carefully slipped out of bed, wincing as moving sent pain radiating through him from his lower back. He felt sticky and in desperate need of a shower, but that could wait as well.

He stilled as Dean stirred again, but relaxed when Dean resettled himself. He began looking for something to wear, just so he wouldn't need to walk around the apartment naked. The floor was covered with their discarded clothes, but he didn't immediately spot his own slacks or underpants. The jeans Dean had been wearing the night before were close by, however. They would do.

Cas hissed quietly in pain as he bent over to pick up the jeans. He quickly slid them on and fastened them. They were a bit too large on his skinny frame, but they were soft with age and use and fairly comfortable.

Cas took one last look at the bed before padding quietly to the door and slipping out into the hallway.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sam stumbled through his bedroom door, bleary-eyed and annoyed. He could hear movement in the kitchen and could smell breakfast cooking. The scent was enough to lessen his irritation, but not enough to get rid of it completely.

He marched towards the kitchen, drawing himself up to his full height and preparing to give his really infuriating, really LOUD older brother a piece of his mind. Sam didn't bring Jess back to the apartment to have noisy, apparently very satisfying sex with her in the middle of the night when Dean was trying to sleep, did he? There was no reason Sam should then be woken up in the middle of the night by sounds coming through the wall between his bedroom and Dean's.

"Next time you have someone over, would you keep it do-" Sam started to say as he rounded the corner into the small cooking area. His voice cut off abruptly as he caught sight of the person standing by the stove. It definitely wasn't Dean, though the man was wearing Dean's favorite pair of jeans.

The stranger half-turned at the sound of Sam's voice, holding a plastic spatula in one hand. Probably for flipping the pancakes, Sam thought dazedly.

"Oh," the man said, turning fully to face Sam. Dean's jeans hung very low on the man's hips, enough for Sam to figure that he probably wasn't wearing any underwear. His chest was dotted with little red marks. He took a step closer to Sam and Sam couldn't help but notice a strange stiffness to his gait. Sam started to wonder if it was simply the way the man walked or if it had anything to do with the noises he'd heard last night. He blushed bright red and banished the thought from his mind.

The stranger moved the spatula to his other hand and extended his right hand for Sam to shake.

"Hello," he said politely. "You must be Sam."

"Yeah. Hi," Sam said, shaking the offered hand. It felt real and warm against his palm. That ruled out this being some kind of trippy dream, though to tell the truth Sam was still reeling from the implications of finding a guy in their kitchen, naked but for Dean's pants. He hadn't recovered enough to form theories yet. "Sorry, but... who are you?"

"I am Castiel," he said. He drew his hand back and turned back to the stove, though he didn't seem offended that Sam had no idea who he was. "Forgive me for helping myself to your ingredients. I wanted to make breakfast for Dean." Castiel flipped the pancakes expertly and turned his attention to the bacon.

"It's fine," Sam said automatically, staring at Castiel with shock. This couldn't be 'Cas', could it? The same Cas that Dean had been mooning after for weeks? Sam shook his head and cleared his throat. "Are you making enough for three?"

If this was 'Cas', then no wonder Dean had been so secretive. Sam hadn't even known that Dean liked men. He'd had a faint inkling, but nothing concrete.

"I am," Castiel replied. "I wasn't sure what time you usually woke and wanted to be prepared just in case."

"Great," Sam said, forcing himself to smile even though he was still too shocked to process much of anything. "I'll just... ah, I'll be over here." He pointed to the small table next to the kitchen, which of course Cas couldn't see because he was still cooking. Right.

Sam walked over to the table and practically fell down onto his usual chair.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean stirred, the smell of something heavenly in his nose. Someone was cooking breakfast. Probably Sammy, since he never had learned how to sleep in properly.  
He yawned and stretched, muscles aching pleasantly and body feeling pretty damn good all over. He grinned and rolled over to shake Cas awake, but his hand fell on mattress instead of skin. He opened his eyes, a bit annoyed that Cas wasn't where he had expected him to be.

"Cas?" he said, pushing himself up to a sitting position. He looked around the room, but there was no Cas to be found.

Dean shoved off the blankets and blamed the sudden chill he felt on that. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. His foot hit cloth and he looked down. Pooled at his feet were Castiel's underwear and slacks.

Dean immediately relaxed. Cas wouldn't have left without his clothes. Grin back on his face, he walked over to his small closet and pulled out a pair of pajama pants. He tugged them on over his hips and tied them so that they wouldn't slip much.

Resisting the urge to whistle, he exited his bedroom and walked into the bathroom to take care of his morning routine.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sam heard the sound of Dean's door opening and then the bathroom door shut. He took another bite of his pancakes, making a mental note to ask Cas for his recipe. They were delicious.

Things had been a bit awkward when Cas had first sat down at the table in Dean's usual seat. Castiel had winced and had lowered himself rather gingerly into the chair. Sam had carefully not wondered why, but he had quietly thanked Cas for the food. Cas had nodded and the conversation had ended there. After a few minutes and several bites of rather excellent food, Sam had gotten up the nerve to ask how Cas and Dean had met.

Cas had launched into the tale and that had cinched it. Sam couldn't feel awkward around anyone who looked like that when talking about Dean. It wasn't so much an expression as the look in Castiel's eyes when he spoke that settled it for the younger Winchester.

Well, he made no guarantees about not being awkward around them if he ever caught them making out or worse, having sex. There were some things Sam just never needed to see.

The bathroom door opened again and Sam heard footsteps come down the hallway. He settled himself more firmly onto his chair, wondering what Dean would say when he saw Sam sitting there. Sam didn't have to wonder long.

Dean stepped into view, wearing only a pair of pajama pants. His eyes landed on Cas first and Sam saw him grin. The expression wasn't one Sam had ever seen on Dean's face before, but it reminded him very much of how his own face supposedly looked whenever he saw Jess. His friends had described the expression to him once before, but Sam hadn't really understood what they had meant until now.

Dean's face really did look years younger and his eyes were less dark when he smiled like that.

Cas turned in his chair and smiled back. It was the same expression Sam had seen earlier on his face when Sam had asked how he and Dean had met.

"Good morning, Dean," he said.

"Morning, Cas," Dean said. Both men were silent for a moment and Sam felt uncomfortably like he was intruding. He cleared his throat and Dean jumped. The older Winchester's eyes landed on the younger and Dean froze, stunned.

"Good morning, Dean," Sam said calmly.

"Good morning, Sammy," Dean said slowly. Sam sipped at his orange juice as Dean dragged himself to the table. He sat in the empty chair next to Cas, a plateful of now-cold pancakes and crispy bacon waiting for him. A strained silence fell over the table. Dean kept on shooting uncertain glances towards Sam, who was calmly eating the rest of his breakfast. Cas looked from one brother to the other, a faint frown on his face.

"I was just talking to Cas," Sam said, using the nickname deliberately so that Dean would know that Sam knew exactly who Castiel was in Dean's eyes. "He was just telling me about how you two met."

"I see," Dean said, voice strained. Castiel's frown deepened along with his confusion and he shot Dean a worried glance. Sam rolled his eyes.

"You're scaring your boyfriend, Dean," Sam said.

"He's not-" Dean started to say automatically, but then he caught himself. He took a deep breath and looked deliberately at Sam. "I prefer the term 'lover'."

Sam grinned. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Castiel relax. Dean just stared at Sam, stunned.

"Congratulations," Sam said, putting as much honesty as he could into his voice. "I'm happy for you, Dean." He'd have the chance to ask Dean why he never told Sam that he batted for both teams later, after Castiel left.

Dean seemed to relax, finally getting the message. He smiled, the same content smile Sam had witnessed earlier.

"Thanks, Sam," he said. He tucked into his breakfast in earnest now. "Mmm, this is delicious."

"Thank you," Cas said, looking pleased with himself. He scooted his chair minutely closer to Dean. His voice was quieter when he next spoke, but it was still loud enough for everyone present to hear. "Last night was wonderful."

Dean blushed, shooting an awkward glance at Sam. Sam was red in the face again and he studied his plate intently.

"Here's hoping you two have many more like it," Sam managed to say. He really did hope that Dean and Cas had more nights like the night before, if only because it meant that Dean and Cas would stay together. A steady relationship could only be good for Dean. "Just, next time, lower the volume?"

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read this! I hope you enjoyed. ^_^


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